Everything For A Price
by Masako Moonshade
Summary: Katara is in dire need, and she is willing to take help wherever she can find it. Zuko can help, but he asks for an unusual exchange. Zutara Now Complete!
1. What You Hope For

Disclaimer: I own...nothing. Absolutely zip.

AN: Thank you to all of my reviewers who convinced me to continue the story.

**_This is, in fact, the sequel to my first Avatar Fanfic, Drawn to the Blackest Skies. So read that one first, please_**.

It seems that a few of you didn't catch this little fact the first time around. Which led to some confused reviews.

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**Once again, read _Drawn to the Blackest Skies_ first. Now you may continue.**

**Chapter 1: What You Hope For**

"Anybody in the mood for nuts?"

"You're nuts, Sokka," Aang sighed, but accepted the food from the older boy nonetheless. "Are you sure you didn't find anything else?"

"Yeah," Sokka said glumly, cracking open one of the nuts for himself. "You take some too, Katara." He cracked another and pushed it into his sister's hands. She ate it, though the motion seemed automatic. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"This isn't good," she said. Her brother nodded knowingly. More than a week ago, Appa had hurt himself while they fled from the Fire Nation. He had managed to land on some unknown ground, not far from the coast, but he was too badly injured to move from where he now lay, let alone fly. At first they had all spent their energy feeding and tending to the flying bison, but things were steadily getting worse: five days ago, they had run out of supplies. There was almost no game to be found in the area and the few fish they found were too small and to make much of a difference(which made little difference, since Aang didn't eat meat). Sokka had tried his hand at gathering food, but the few things he could recognize were either nuts or identified as poisonous.

Katara stood up and gathered an armful of leaves in her arms, offering it to Appa. The bison groaned and accepted the food, chewing loudly while Katara examined his wounds. Several large gashes scored his belly and side, and a long burn marred the skin around his neck. Infection had not set in yet, but the injuries were still not healing as quickly as they should have. Katara rubbed at a patch of unscathed belly.

"Poor, brave boy," she cooed. "Just keep resting. Everything will be okay." Both of the boys glanced up at her after that remark. The look in their eyes was just short of pleading. "It _will_ be okay," she repeated, assuring herself as much as her companions.

Katara leaned back against a tree, watching Aang and Sokka sleep. It was only afternoon, but the lack of food had left all of them with little energy, and sleep seemed to be the only escape from cruel hunger. Katara had found her own escape, however.

Said escape known more commonly as Prince Zuko.

She hadn't told the boys about that night. Sokka, being the brother he was, would probably throw a fit (what were you doing _kissing him?_ He's the ENEMY!) and most likely try to slaughter Prince Zuko for 'seducing' his sister. As alarming as it was, it was still an amusing thought. But Aang...he wouldn't understand. He would try, of course. He would look for the good in his enemy. Almost see it, most likely. And then he would forget who he was dealing with and get himself captured.

The last few empty days had presented a perfect opportunity for reflection. Yet even with all the spare time, she had established almost nothing. Prince Zuko had said nothing about Aang, which was unusual to say the least. And he had returned her mother's necklace. She still wasn't sure if he had been watching her bathe, but most likely she would never know about that for sure. His entire manner had been too...buisnesslike...for her to be comfortable. She sat down, continuing her analysis while examining the sky.

_The night's coming earlier than I expected_, she thought idly. In the distance, the sky was darkening steadily, just above the line of trees...

She sat up. Something wasn't right about the color, though. It looked too little like dusk. Too much like...

_Smoke_. She hardly dared to hope. Where there was smoke, there was fire. And where there was fire, people weren't far away. And people would have supplies, and food... Her stomach groaned at the thought of a meal. She glanced at Sokka and Aang, who still lay sleeping a few yards away, and grinned. _They'll enjoy a surprise_, she thought. She climbed to her feet, but was forced to pause as she was hit by a wave of dizziness. She blinked and looked remorsefully at Aang and Sokka. Both of them were working so hard.

She had to get them something to eat.

She just had to.

Katara pushed her way through the trees, trying to ignore the hunger stabs in her stomach and the fatigue that was dragging at her bones and threatening to overwhelm her muscles. _Did Sokka feel this way when he was out foraging for food?_ she felt a renewed admiration for her brother as the soil beneath her feet gave way to softer sand, and she reached the long, sweeping beach. Still standing within the boundaries of the forest she scanned the water—perhaps a fishing boat had stopped here, or a merchant ship, or...

Her heart sank as she laid eyes on the iron hull of a Fire Navy ship.

She stepped back, clenching her jaw.

_It isn't fair!_ She wanted to scream, to cry, to run at the stupid ship and the stupid Fire Navy, and all the stupid, stupid Firebenders on board it who were all eating as much as their stupid bellies could hold while she and Sokka and Aang starved!

But she knew too well the dangers of attracting the Fire Nation's attention. Instead she allowed herself to fall back against the rough trunk of a nearby tree and sink slowly to the ground.

_It's a good thing I didn't tell Aang and Sokka,_ she thought bitterly. _They'd_ _be crushed..._ She wrapped her arms around her knees and sighed. She didn't have the energy to go back just yet.

_Sokka will be worried about me if I don't get back soon. Aang, too..._ Another agonizing pain tore at her stomach, though it faded into a dull throb.

_I'm hungry..._


	2. Gather Up Your Shattered Strength

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fireball that is now sitting in the palm of my hand, which will consume any and all lawyers who try to sue me.

AN: Thank you all of my reviewers, and thanks especially to Incessant Escapist for being my wonderful Beta Editor and Idea Bouncer.

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**Chapter 2: Gather Up Your Shattered Strength**

Katara woke to the sounds of voices. They were close, maybe within a hundred yards, and moving steadily away. For a moment she considered calling out to them. They might have food, and her stomach was killing her... She was about to shout when she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Search further inland! The Avatar will avoid the coast so soon after a fight against General Zhou. Now go!" Katara's body froze. They'd been found. Prince Zuko had finally caught them when they were too weak to run or fight. "Find him!" the Prince roared. Katara pulled herself to her feet, already developing a plan as she started trotting toward the camp. She had to warn Aang. If she got to him in time, he could still escape with Sokka and Momo. She could stay with Appa and catch up when the bison was well enough to fly again.

She swallowed.

If she wasn't caught first.

_It's a lousy plan_, she thought. _And Sokka and Aang will never go along with it. But it'll have to do until--_

"You shouldn't sleep out in the open." Her blood froze in her veins as the calm, confident voice drifted from behind her. "There's no telling who might find you."

Katara glanced back. Just like before, Prince Zuko stood a few yards away, staring coldly and silently back at her. She suddenly felt trapped by her muteness, as though she was drowning in tension. Every muscle in her body flexed in preperation for escape, but she couldn't move. She struggled to say something, to remind herself that the creature in front of her was indeed human. A young man, even, if such a concept could be grasped by her straining, deluded mind.

_What on earth am I supposed to say?_ she thought frantically. _Tell him to leave Aang alone? He'll deny he's doing anything wrong._

_Slap him? He'll turn me to ash before I get close enough._

_Hug him?...I think I'll kill him first._

_Beg him for food?_

She turned completely to face him. He hadn't moved an inch.

"It's hard to be found," she said at last. "If nobody's around to find you." The saying sounded completely abstract and pointless, but she decided that she had made her point. The Prince looked amused, though he said nothing. Once more the silence mounted as both stood still, sending chills down Katara's spine.

"I'm guessing you came here to find Aang?" she asked, drawing at last on fact. "I heard you talking about him earlier." Prince Zuko shrugged.

"That is part of it," he said, keeping his tone light.

"And the rest?" For less than an instant, Katara saw something new flutter across the Prince's face. Something more than contemplation, something less than doubt. But it quickly disappeared, replaced once more by a superior sneer.

"The rest is for me to know," he said stiffly.

Katara'd had enough. She turned to leave, hoping to lose him in the deeper forest if he tried to follow her. Her stomach offered a fierce complaint, however, and sent a spasm of pain through her abdomon, acomponied by an angry growl. Katara moved one hand to cover her disobedient belly out of habit.

"Are you sick?" Prince Zuko asked. Katara decided that she had only imagined a slight concern in his tone. She shook her head with a soft laugh.

"Of course not. Just hungry, that's all." She was amazed by how easily she could shrug off something so cruel. But the Prince wasn't satisfied. He walked in a wide circle around her until he was in the center of her line of sight.

"How long has it been since you have last eaten?" he asked, his voice aquiring the tone of a practiced interrogator.

"Huh?" Katara simply blinked at him. Prince Zuko looked impatient and spoke again.

"When did you last eat?" he rephrased. Katara wasn't sure what he was trying to find out, but she knew that it had to have something to do with Aang. She shrugged and looked away.

"Tell me," the Prince demanded, moving again so that her eyes landed immediately on his.

"Why should I?" For almost a minute they stared each other down, his amber eyes never leaving her own blue orbs.

"You haven't eaten in a while," he said finally. Katara twitched.

_Can he read minds AND Firebend?_

"Two days ago? Maybe three?"

_They were fish_. Two small fish was all that Katara had been able to catch for the three of them. After that, her bending skills began to fail, disrupted by her gnawing hunger.

Prince Zuko took her silence as affirmation. He pointed to the west, just inland of the beach.

"I saw a stream down there," he said, his voice now adopting the tone of a general. "It bends sharply at one point, far enough inland that it can't be seen from the beach. Meet me there at sunset. Do you understand?" Katara nodded. At any other time, she would have argued, or refused, or done any of a thousand other things, but none could be sifted from the mist in her mind.


	3. Temptation Sweet and Cruel

Disclaimer: On Avatar, count how many gameboys Aang has. That's how much I own.

AN: Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers, and thanks again to Incessant Escapist, for everything you have done. You guys keep me going!

Also, I'm sorry for taking so long to update. Actually this chapter has been done for a few days, but work has been really rough lately, and School lets out in two weeks, so Finals are on the way. Chapter 4 is already finished (for the most part) but expect it up no sooner than next Friday. I want to keep things evenly spaced so I don't fall way behind and don't update for months at a time.

**Chapter 3:Temptation Sweet and Cruel**

Though actually finding the spot Prince Zuko had spoken of didn't take long, Katara was reluctant to approach it. The bent stream bordered a small clearing. By day it would have been cheerfully brightened by stray rays of sunshine, but in the approaching dusk, the air had been dyed blood red by what little light filtered through the trees, throwing the darkening shadows into even more sinister relief. The strange light distorted her vision, turning the surrounding trees into the backdrop of some vicious dream. A hundred Fire Nation soldiers could hide around her, and she would be completely oblivious. No doubt Prince Zuko had planned some sort of ambush, perhaps in hope that Aang would accompany Katara to the meeting ground. But the girl had formed plans of her own.

There hadn't been enough time to go to the campsite and back before dusk, but that circumstance had prevented any chance of her being followed and the camp being found. When Prince Zuko did come, she would tell him that she had gotten separated from the others after the fight against Zhou, and swam to the coast alone, or some other believable nonsense. If all went well, she could convince Prince Zuko to give up his search and move on to look for Aang elsewhere. Katara swallowed. But even if it did work, she would most likely be taken prisoner in the process...

That doesn't matter. Not as long as Aang and Sokka are safe.

She stepped into the center of the clearing just as the sun began to set. The shifting light added gold and orange to its hues, offering the illusion that the very air was on fire, and in the illusion's climax, Prince Zuko arrived, wreathed in shadows. Katara's ears strained for the clink of armor, the snap of twigs, or any other sound that might reveal the ambush.

"It seems that I have something you want," Prince Zuko observed. He was standing across the clearing, only his scarred face illuminated by the bloodstained light.

"What would that be?" Katara asked innocently. If she was to talk the Prince into anything, she would have to play the part.

"This," he pulled a small sack from the shadows and reached inside, removing a large, golden loaf of bread. The scent that followed the revelation was almost intoxicating, and Katara felt herself begin to salivate, though she tried to keep her face blank. The loaf was returned to the sack, and Prince Zuko pulled out a bright red apple that seemed to glow in the evening sun. The girl forced herself to look away. After days of eating no more than a handful of nuts, the food seemed a king's feast, and the shape of the sack hinted that it contained more. It was too good to be true. She raised her eyes from the dappled ground.

"How much?" she asked faintly. "How much for all of it?" The Prince stared her in the eyes for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If you promise to come back here tomorrow, it's yours." Katara hesitated, but hunger won out over caution.

"When?" she asked.

"At dusk."

"...I'll be there," she nodded. Prince Zuko wore a victorious smirk as he handed her the package. Her suspicion flared. "Won't somebody realize this is gone?" she asked, making sure she had a tight grip on the precious sack. Prince Zuko scowled.

"I'd be surprised. My soldiers are all idiots. But even if they weren't, they would assume that my uncle ate it."

"Oh." The story sounded clean enough, but she didn't give up on the idea of a trap. She didn't want to press her luck, but... "Why are you doing this?" A thoughtful pause followed the question.

"If I knew, I doubt I would be doing it," he said.

"Prince Zuko..." both heard an old man calling through the trees, his voice coming from the beach. "Where are you...?"

"My uncle," the Prince explained, rolling his eyes as he turned to leave.

"...Goodbye," Katara said softly. "And thank you." Prince Zuko looked back at her over his shoulder, his expression unreadable, though Katara imagined she saw a smile flicker across his lips.

"Coming, uncle," he called, disappearing into the darkness of the trees.

Katara smiled and clutched the precious package closer, and set off into the thick of the forest. She was careful to take several turns, to confuse or perhaps throw of anyone who might have been following her.

Almost an hour later, she arrived at the camp, completely alone. She smiled as she saw her brother and Aang lying on the ground, sleeping peacefully. She knelt at Aang's side and gently tapped him.

"Aang," she whispered. "Aang! Wake up." One of the Avatar's eyes opened.

"What is it, Katara?" he asked groggily.

"I've got food, Aang. Food!"

"Don't joke like that," Sokka groaned from a few feet away, not bothering to open his eyes.

"It's no joke!" she laughed. "And I can prove it." She pulled a peach out of the bag and pressed it into her brother's hand, and put the apple on Aang's forehead. At once, both their eyes opened.

"You're not kidding," Sokka breathed.

"Where did this stuff come from, Katara?" Aang asked.

"There's a ship on the coast..." she said. There was no point in hiding it from them. Unfortunately, the boys took the news too well.

"Really?" Sokka cried, springing to his feet. Aang cheered. "That's great! We can go back and--"

"No, Sokka," Katara interrupted gravely. "We can't."

"Why not? They didn't leave, did they?"

"No...It's a Fire Nation ship..." The wild cheering died instantly.

"Are you sure?" Aang asked. She nodded. "Then how did you...?"

"You didn't steal it, did you?"

"It's not like they'll miss it," Katara said quickly. "And besides, we need it. It's a matter of survival." Sokka shot her a disapproving look, but it faded.

"It isn't right, but you have a point. We need it more than they do," he said at last, biting decisively into the peach.

"Yeah," Aang agreed. "What's done is done. There's no changing it now. So let's eat."

The three finished off one of the loaves in a few ravenous minutes, eating as though they feared their precious food would be snatched away from them if they paused to breathe. A generous amount of the fruit also vanished before Aang, Sokka, and Katara fell back, their bellies finally full. The dinner had been eerily quiet, from caution of the nearby Fire Navy, but the previously dissolved cheer had definitely returned, welcomed by the vanquished hunger pains. The three children even began to laugh and joke quietly, celebrating their meal with hushed giggles that seemed to dance in the moonlit air, and stay, long after their owners had fallen asleep.


	4. Question My Judgement

Disclaimer: Fun time! Let's unscramble different ways of saying how much I own. Ready? onhngti; pzi; anad; zreo

Did you get all of them? I hope so!

AN: That is one of the many side effects of working at Kroger during Finals season: your brain shuts down. Forgive me! Anyway, thank you again to all my loyal reviewers, and of course to Incessant Escapist, who is absolutely amazing with all the help she gives me. I love you guys!

Also, this chapter is a bit longer than the earlier ones. Consider this an excuse for waiting a little bit longer on the next one. That, and I miss seeing reviews in my inbox, so I'm updating a little longer than I said I would. But you don't really mind, do you?

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**Chapter 4: Question My Judgement**

Katara pulled back a young willow branch, cutting it cleanly away with the small knife she carried. _Appa will like this,_ she thought idly, putting the cutting on the growing pile on the forest floor.

"Heads up!" she heard Aang shout from somewhere above her, just before several more clippings landed neatly on top of hers, accompanied by a slight swirl of wind. She heard her friend giggle from the treetops, where the cut branches would be less obvious.

"Show off!" Katara laughed. Her own abilities had returned as well, as she'd discovered that morning (after a wonderful breakfast). She wondered vaguely if Sokka intended to get her back for splashing him...

Katara chuckled and returned to cutting the branches for several minutes.

"Appa's going to eat well today, isn't he, Aang?" she called up cheerfully as she worked.

There was no response.

"Hey, Aang?" she called again, but her voice was met by empty silence. She backed up a step, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. She felt a sudden icy reminder of where their blessed meal had come from.

"Aang?" She raised the knife slightly. Being armed, even so poorly, made her feel a little better. And she didn't even know what from, or why.

Was it the Fire Nation she feared? Thier murders and tyrrany and cruel flames? The thought of unforgiving fire eating away her skin?

Or was she afraid of Prince Zuko? His anger, his obsession, his determination...

His kiss? His smile? His arms as they wrapped around her, holding her tight, swearing never to let her go...

As much as she wanted him to hold her, as much as she had relished that kiss, she was still afraid of him.

In his arms she was helpless. In his arms she didn't need to fight.

He could have absolute power over her if he tried to take it, and that frightened her more than a hundred thousand soldiers ever could.

She cared for him despite her fear. She feared him because of that attraction. The paradox made her head spin. She backed up another step.

Katara gasped as something touched her hair, as a faint voice whispered in her ear. She spun on her heel.

A few leaves fluttered to the ground, slashed viciously from thier branches. She looked stupidly at her hand and realized that she was still holding her knife, that she had lashed out with it just now.

Katara sighed in relief. The touch hand been a low branch, the voice had been the wind. She was still safe and alone. Prince Zuko was nowhere near her.

_Zuko_.

If he had been there, standing behind her, if her knife...she felt suddenly queazy.

_What would have happened to him?_ A chill passed through her.

_What does he want with me?_

"Is something wrong, Katara?" Her head snapped up as she heard Aang's voice. He was standing just behind her now.

"There you are!" she cried, relief washing through her veins. "Where did you go?" The Avatar looked meekly at the ground.

"I...kind of started flying around. Having fun...I'm sorry I worried you," he raised his large, childish eyes at her. Katara laughed. There was no defying that adorable expression.

"It's all right, Aang," she laughed, hugging him briefly. "Just tell me that you're going next time, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" the boy said, offering her a salute. She laughed again and bent over, gathering some of the trimmed branches.

"Good job, soldier. Now let's get this stuff back to Appa. He must be starving!"

Katara arrived at the clearing just as the air was beginning to grow hazy. Shadows grew and twisted around her light dodged and danced across the stream. Everything was surreal; she almost thought she might have been dreaming.

Getting past Sokka and Aang wasn't hard. Thier renewed supplies hadn't lasted long against their ravenous hunger, and now they had only a loaf of bread and a few fruits left. Katara had convinced them them that it was worth the risk to go back and try to steal more food (though she was careful never to actually say she was stealing it). Both had easily been swayed, and allowed her to leave without any further questions. Katara looked miserably at the ground. She didn't like lying to Aang and Sokka. But she had a suspicion that they would like the truth even less.

She dipped her hand into the stream. Now that she could bend again, the closeness of the water was comforting. She pulled her hand out of the water, allowing it to drip into the grass in sparkling droplets. As simple as it was, the activity was rather soothing. She had calmed almost entirely when Prince Zuko arrived, bathed in golden light. She noticed with a flash of hope that he was holding another sack, the fabric bulged with hints at more food.

"I'm here," she said. "Just like I promised."

"I can see that." Katara brushed off the icy comment. She looked him straight in the eyes, emboldened by her restored strength and abilities.

"Why did you want me to come, anyway?" she asked. The Prince shot her a sidelong glance.

"To interrogate you," he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in creation. Katara folded her arms stubbornly.

"You have a one track mind, you know," she said. "I'm not going to tell you anything about Aang." The Prince rolled his eyes.

"And you call me single minded. Fine." Katara was slightly shocked by his easy aquiescence, but her suspicion didn't fade. "Don't bother looking at me like that. You'll still be interrogated." The girl stared at him blankly.

"About what?"

"Your name, for example. It's Katara, isn't it? That's what the Avatar called you." Katara nodded. "I thought so. What about the other boy? The annoying one from the South Pole. Who is he?" Katara couldn't believe what she was hearing. _What kind of interrogation is this supposed to be, anyway?_

"His name is Sokka," she said automatically.

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" Katara made a face. This wan't something she enjoyed thinking about.

"No! That's disgusting! He's my brother," she explained, trying to purge the thought from her mind. Evidently, Prince Zuko found her reaction amusing. Very amusing, considering the size of his smirk.

"I see. There's no resemblance."

"_Why _does this interest you, by the way?" she asked.

"I'm the one asking the questions, Katara." She felt a bit of a blush rise in her cheeks as he said her name. Katara was suddenly greatful for the multihued light that was probably disguising the red stain on her face.

"Then ask away. Just don't bother asking about Aang."

"I've got the idea. You can stop repeating yourself." There was a hint of laughter in his voice. "Why was that necklace so important to you?" Katara gagued the question, but it sounded innocent enough. Too innocent, actually, but she couldn't find any good way to get out of answering.

"It was my mother's," she said stiffly.

"And your mother is still in the South Pole?" Prince Zuko guessed. Katara looked away. This was a question she wouldn't answer. Outside of her sight, Prince Zuko studied her with interest.

"Dead, then?" he guessed again, though with a slightly more solemn tone. Katara couldn't stop herself from jerking, confirming the assumption. "I see. What about your father?" The girl returned her gaze to him.

"I don't know," she said evasively.

"You don't?" There was something in his tone that was just too...

"He left to fight your soldiers, so don't even think that!" she snapped suddenly. "My father's a good and respectable man. He left to _protect _us from the Fire Nation."

"So he left your brother to defend your village." Katara dipped her hand into the water again.

"There was no reason for you to come to the South Pole," she said reflectively. "All of the men and the Waterbenders were already in the war, so there wasn't anyone for you to fight in the villages."

"All of the Waterbenders but you."

"I was eleven at the time, and I didn't know enough about Waterbending at the time to make a difference."

"Though I'm sure that scroll helped you plenty," Prince Zuko said smugly. Katara looked at him in annoyance.

"Very much, actually," she said in a forced pleasant tone. She was determined not to let him get to her. "Any other questions?"

"Yes...How old are you?" Katara blinked at him. The question brought an image of Grangran into her mind. Somehow, she wanted to laugh.

"You're not supposed to ask that, you know," she said. Prince Zuko raised one eyebrow dignantly.

"I was aware that only questions about the Avatar were off limits," he said lightly.

"Not that. I mean in general. You're not supposed to ask women thier age."

"Unless you're past your twenties, I doubt that the rule applies to you."

"It isn't a rule. It's a courtesy."

"No, it's an interrogation."

"The wierdest interrogation I've ever seen," Katara said with a slight laugh.

"And how many have you attended?"

"This is my first official one, actually." Prince Zuko rolled his eyes.

"So are you going to tell me or not?" he asked.

"Hmm...Tell you what," Katara said pleasantly. She was in a very good mood, considering the situation. "Tell me how old you are, and I'll tell too."

"You're joking."

"I'm not. Come on. Tell me," she prodded. Prince Zuko rolled his eyes in mock defeat.

"I'm sixteen," he said at last.

"Really?" She recieved a sidelong glance from the Prince. His annoyance was more than worth her behavior, though she was honestly surprised. He didn't act like a boy of his age. _And he certainly doesn't kiss like one either_. Katara was suddenly grateful for the gathering dark that was masking her blush. It wasn't exactly something she wanted him to ask about.

"You said you'd answer the question," he pointed out dryly.

"Right. I'm fourteen," she shrugged, effectively keeping her embarassment out of her voice. Prince Zuko paused thoughtfully.

"Why did you leave the South Pole?" he asked finally. His tone was almost grave. Katara was stunned.

"I..." How could she answer him? She honestly didn't know the answer herself. "I had to."

"How so?" She couldn't think of any reason but the first.

"I had to learn waterbending," she admitted.

"But you've already learned," he pointed out. Katara felt suddenly cornered. She couldn't find any motive, but the question made her infinately uneasy.

"Why did you leave the Fire Nation?" she countered quickly. She expected him to remind her who was interrrogating whom and return to the question.

But he didn't.

"I didn't get a choice about it." He said quietly. Katara eyed his darkened form with renewed interest.

"What happened?"

"I was exiled." The words were oddly stiff, as though he was moving an old wound. Katara faintly remembered hearing Commander Zhou saying something about Zuko in Avatar Roku's temple. She wished now she had paid more attention, though she had been preoccupied with Aang's safety at the time.

"For what?" she asked gently.

"They called it 'Treason'." His voice was tight. Katara wondered vaguely who 'they' were, but said nothing about it.

"What was it, really?" Rather than answer her, the Prince straightened.

"This is what you came for, isn't it?" he asked, lifting the sack he had brought. Katara didn't say anything. He still hadn't answered her question.

"Promise to come back, and it's yours."

"When?" she asked. It was pointless to fight it. Besides, she was hungry.

"Dusk, the day after tomorrow. My men will probably have noticed I'm gone by now. You may go." Without another word, he tossed the sack to her, before he turned on his heel and walked away.


	5. Lost in Your Lies

Disclaimer: If I actually owned Avatar, this wouldn't be a fanfiction.

AN: Reveiwers, Incessant Escapist, you guys know I adore you. 50 REVIEWS! I'm HAPPY!

Anyways, this chapter is a bit of a break from the secret meetings. And here's a little poll: should I keep giving the chapters names? I think I'm the only one they actually make sense for, and they can get tough to come up with. And any sample chapter titles would be a big help too. Hahaha.

Finals week is this week, so I'm kinda stressed, but you can expect another update on...probably June 5. Two days after school gets out. It isn't too long a wait, is it? After that, I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, because I'm submitting this from the school computers and my home internet is down. But we'll get that fixed eventually. So may this hold you over until then, and God help all students during finals.

Your humble servant,

Masako Moonshade

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**Chapter 5: Lost In Your Lies**

Katara gripped the sack tightly as she took the longer, roundabout way back to camp. It was pointless, really, to be so careful; after three meetings, there had been no sign that she was being followed, and judging from the Prince's words, he was keeping their meetings just as secret as she was.

_But it can't hurt to be safe_.

Katara ducked to avoid a low tree branch. _Wouldn't it be nice to get away from Prince Zuko just as easily?_ she mused. _Of course, he isn't _starving,_ so he can just avoid what he wants to, when he wants to. Makes perfect sense._

_I don't really know if he was avoiding the question._

_But he was. Sokka acts the same way-- just change the subject instantly and hope you don't look stupid. It isn't exactly an original maneuver._

_Exactly. Prince Zuko _isn't _Sokka. Things that would work for one wouldn't make sense for the other. Prince Zuko could very well have been telling the truth._

_And Aang could very well be a talking turnip. He was trying to get rid of me._

_Not that it failed. But it _is _getting late, and those soldiers are bound to notice if he stayed out any later._

_Right..._

Katara stopped in her tracks.

"Why am I talking to myself?" she said out loud. Several minutes passed in silence before she came within earshot of the campsite.

"KATARA! You're back!" Aang launched toward her, catching her in an enthusiastic hug.

"I'm glad you're safe," Sokka added, his tone that of a responsible big brother. "AND YOU BROUGHT FOOD!" Katara laughed. All was well in Sokka's world. Her brother grabbed the sack and began rummaging through it.

"I did," she said. "But we're going to have to make this load last a bit longer than the last one. I don't think I'll be able to go back tomorrow."

"Why not?" Aang asked.

"Did something happen?" Sokka demanded, the newly acquired food instantly forgotten.

"No, nothing," Katara said, putting her hands up as though to ward away any further questions. "But I think one or two of the soldiers might have noticed something. I think I should wait a day before going another round, so they don't start to suspect anything." It wasn't a _complete_ lie. Prince Zuko had given her a similar reason. "But the food probably won't last much longer than that, so I'll go again the next night."

The least she could do was give herself an early alibi.

The rationed food didn't spoil the cheer of the meal, however, and their dinner was as jolly as ever. Katara began to settle into a doze as her brother started telling Aang stories of the South Pole. He was somewhere close to the climax of one epic or another when she finally drifted to sleep.

The following day was a typical one. Appa was finally starting to recover; new, pink skin was growing in place of the deep gashes, his burns were beginning to smooth out, and soft fuzz was beginning to grow back where his fur had been singed off. The flying bison could once again move on his own, and his energy was returning, though he was still in no shape to fly. Aang had recommended that they leave the injuries alone, so they returned to their daily chore of gathering food for Appa. In the afternoon Katara mended clothes while trying to teach the boys to sew (though this was given up rather quickly, after Sokka deduced that a needle was more dangerous than his boomerang). In the evening they took turns bathing. The boys found it odd that Katara washed at the same time they did, though they didn't mention it more than once.

"It's the Fire Nation soldiers," she had admitted. "I'm just not really comfortable thinking that they could spy on me while I'm taking my bath..."

"You don't have to worry about that, Katara," Sokka had said, just as big brothers always do. "If any of them tried something like that, I'd take care of them."

"I'm just making sure you're awake to live up to that," she had replied simply. She had absolutely no intention of telling him how she had recovered her mother's necklace.

She had been telling the truth, actually, though she was more worried about Prince Zuko peeping than any of his soldiers.

_Katara's feet made light imprints on the soft sand as she passed just out of reach of the waves as they caressed the shoreline. The sky around her had receded into a multihued spectacle, awash in indigo and blue and pale cream, yet emblazed with reds and golds. The world was silent but for the whispering of the sea._

_And then..._

_Fire._

_Blazing flames that rushed against her skin, boiling the waters at her feet. She sped to a trot, and then to a run, but the flames were ever behind her, around her, threatening to consume her if she ever stopped running. She cried out, only to be muzzled by smoke._

_"Sokka! Aang!" she coughed, but nobody came. She kept running. The flames licked at her feet, urging her to go faster, faster faster! She tried to call again, but no reply came. She was alone..._

_A hand closed over her mouth. She thrashed to escape it, her enemy, the cruel, unyielding fire, she cried out..._

_And realized that she could scream._

_Warm, perfumed air filled her mouth and nose and lungs, returning her coveted breath. The hand was joined by a second as it left her mouth and slid gently across her face, down her neck, her arms, her sides. The hands-- warm hands, strong hands-- stopped at her waist and wrapped around it, holding her in a gentle embrace._

_The flames no longer burned her. They kept their distance, bathing her in soothing heat as her marred skin mended just out of their reach. She tried again to pull from the grip of her captor, but he held tight, burying his head in the crook of her neck._

_"Don't move," he whispered. "As long as I have you, you are safe, Katara..." Soft lips brushed against her neck, and her legs gave out beneath her. Her captor supported her weight effortlessly, holding her aloft._

_"You need me, Katara," he murmured as he put her back to her feet. "And I...need you..."_

Katara woke with a start. Something...something had just happened, though she wasn't sure what it was. Her eyes warily scanned the area around her. Aang was asleep a few yards away, a sweet smile tugging at his lips. Sokka wasn't far off, snoring contentedly. Momo was chirping in his sleep, and Appa groaned happily in the center of the clearing. The surrounding trees had been stripped of leaves, courtesy of the flying bison, revealing the sinking moon through a skeletal frame. Katara shuddered slightly and turned her eyes back to the trees. Nobody was there. A slight scent of charcoal drifted through the forest, carried to her nose on a passing wind, but it made her come silently to her feet nonetheless.

Warily she stepped away from her brother and Aang and picked her way through the nearby foliage, hauntingly bare. She walked in a wide circle around the camp, then again, and again, in an ever growing spiral. No footprints or scorch marks betrayed Fire Nation soldiers. The wind shifted, taking the fire-scent with it. And Katara was left alone.

Now that there was no suspected danger creeping up to her, she felt more than a little silly.

_What got me so upset, anyway? _she wondered uneasily.

A dream.

_Just a dream_.

Katara laughed quietly. A dream! And she couldn't even remember what the dream had been about. Only that she had been very frightened, and then...what? She had felt something in her dream, though she couldn't place it. Something between fear, and joy, and anger, and grief, and a thousand other things. All of them too wide apart to put together, yet too close together to distinguish between. She reeled and looked back up at the sky. The moon was just at the edge of vision, now shrouded by a canopy of leaves as a young morning approached. But something foreboding still pricked the edge of her neck. Something...

And she remembered.

Prince Zuko.

She was supposed to meet him again tonight.


	6. Know Thine Enemy

Disclaimer: Nickelodeon owns Avatar. If Iowned Nickelodeon, they wouldn't be showing it only on weekends. And they'd still be showing Zim.

AN: Okay, I'm making up a bunch of stuf about Zuko's past. Friday's episode will determine how wrong I was, but after that, please forgive me for the inacuracy. I may or may not change parts of this, depending on how much I like the real version. But it probably won't have any real impact on how things go, so don't sweat.

Also, thanks to Booter-Freak for inspiration and for letting me use some of your ideas here. Read 'He Doesn't Understand' for further insight. And, as always, thanks to Incessant Escapist, and all of my lovely reviewers. 71 Reviews!You guys make me want to dance, you know that? But me dancing is kind of a scary sight, so I'll spare you all the brain damage, and get on to the story, ne?**

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**Chapter 6: Know Thine Enemy**

"Are you sure you have to go back today?" Aang asked Katara. The twilight had long since faded into morning, and that had become a swift afternoon. Now the sun was sinking low across the trees, and her appointment with Prince Zuko was quickly approaching.

"I'm pretty sure," Katara replied. "Appa isn't better yet, and we don't know how long that ship is going to stay here. If they leave before I get more supplies, we'll be back to eating nothing but nuts."

"We've still got leftovers from last time," Sokka pointed out. Katara smiled softly at the remark. Her brother had shown an impressive amount of restraint in not gorging himself on their food supply. He was right; they did have a good day's provisions still left over. But she shook her head.

"I know, but those won't last us too long. I want to give Appa as much time as possible to heal, and that means getting as many supplies as we can get away with." Aang nodded solemnly and walked to Appa's side, affectionately rubbing the giant bison's nose.

"She's got a point," he said. "Doesn't she, boy?" Appa responded with an appreciative groan. Sokka still looked skeptical, but he put up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Just don't turn into a professional thief, okay?" he said seriously.

"You don't have to worry about that," Katara assured him. "It's not like I _enjoy _stealing."

_Though I've got no problem with trading... _The thought shocked her.

"But it's not like we have much of a choice," she amended. "And besides, it was the Fire Nation who got us in this mess in the first place, right?" Sokka looked a little uneasy.

"Yeah...Just be careful, okay?"

"I will be." Another thought entered her mind. "You guys should watch out too, okay?"

"I guess," Aang said. "Why?"

Katara hesitated. How should she explain this?

"I think the Fire Nation might be planning something. I'm not sure what, or even if they really are, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"As always," Sokka quipped. Katara ignored the comment.

"But if anything does happen to me, I want you guys to hurry and get out of here, okay?" Aang and Sokka exchanged glances.

"_If_," Aang said at last. "If you get caught. But we'll come and rescue you right away--"

"No, Aang. You can't do that. If they do catch me, that's probably what they'll be after. If I get caught I'll find a way to escape on my own, and I'll get back to you guys. But don't try to come after me. Okay?"

"Not okay," Sokka said. "We're not going to just leave you in the hands of those ash-slinging, fire-spitting, smoke-breathing, murderous, fatherless snakes!" Katara raised one eyebrow.

_I'm not sure about the rest of those, but...his breath was very..._very _nice. And I don't know if he killed anyone, and...What am I thinking?_

"It's just a precaution, though. I won't get caught," she countered. "But one other thing: if they come here, go into the woods and stay out of sight. We can meet at dawn... over there," she pointed up to a hill that rose above the tree line a few miles away. "But we don't want to risk capture, so don't go there until just before dawn." Aang and Sokka agreed to this, at least. After nearly an hour of nagging she had convinced them to agree to her first condition as well, just in case.

The sky was still light as Katara made her way to the clearing. The whispering stream sparkled in the light of a late afternoon, the trees stretched as they prepared for sleep. In the light of day it was a rather beautiful place, absolutely devoid of the sinister air of twilight.

"You're early," Prince Zuko noted from his usual place at the edge of the clearing.

"So are you," Katara pointed out. She didn't want to reveal that he had startled her.

_Just like walking close to a wolf,_ she remembered thinking, and almost laughed. _If only he was as easy to handle!_

"I'm surprised the Avatar let you come again," Prince Zuko mused. Katara caught herself before she spoke.

"I never said Aang was here," she said, reverting decidedly to her old plan. Hopefully...

"You never said he wasn't here, either," the Prince pointed out. Katara opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. "And I can tell when you lie, so I wouldn't recommend it." Katara closed her mouth immediately. She considered again if Prince Zuko really could read minds. "I doubt your brother is pleased that you're coming here," he added.

"He doesn't exactly know." Katara decided it wasn't worth trying to cover up. Aang and Sokka had a way to escape if anything went wrong, so she didn't have to worry too much about them.

Besides, she was sick and tired of lying. Prince Zuko raised an eyebrow.

"Doesn't he? Then what does he think you're doing? Walking to a market, perhaps?"

"No...He and Aang...they think I'm stealing supplies from your ship." The confession was rather embarrassing, but she had no intention of covering it up. After all, she didn't exactly need to impress Prince Zuko. He was her enemy, after all. But the amused expression on his face was infuriating nonetheless.

"And why, exactly, did you tell them that?" he asked. "You aren't planning to make a name for yourself as a thief, are you?"

"Of course not! And I didn't say anything. They just put it together on their own."

"They don't have much faith in you, do they?" Prince Zuko asked dryly.

"Enough to trust me to come through for them," Katara snapped.

"And they're happy about this?" Katara felt like shouting. Prince Zuko had a way of implying the absolute worst about everyone.

"No, they're _not_," she defended. "What they think I'm doing is wrong and they know it. But we need to eat, and as far as they know, I don't have any other choice."

"'As far as they know?'" Prince Zuko repeated thoughtfully. "Why didn't you save your reputation and tell them the truth? I'm sure the Avatar would appreciate it."

"They wouldn't touch your food if they knew where it came from. Sokka and Aang don't trust Firebenders. Least of all you."

"But do you?" Prince Zuko advanced a few steps, circling her like a cat around its prey. The sun had fallen during their conversation, and he was now robed in the eerie crimson light. Katara considered for a moment before answering.

"No."

"Good," Prince Zuko said, sounding more like a predator with every breath. "Because I assure you, I am far from trustworthy." He was directly behind her now. Katara fought the urge to spin around and face him, or at least to run away. Anything, as long as he didn't stay at her back, out of her sight.

"You are in a dangerous position," he continued, his voice nearly a growl. "All alone, in the middle of nowhere, when even your brother isn't here to save you from a rogue Firebender..." He put one hand on her neck, the other on her shoulder. Katara just barely stopped herself from flinching. He could strangle her without the slightest movement, burn her to cinders in an instant. She tried to focus on his touch, to hopefully drown out his words, though it was in vain. But she did notice that his hands were warmer than Aang or Sokka or Haru's. It wasn't the raging heat of a fever, but it was a noticeable difference. She had noticed the same when the monks in Avatar Roku's temple had grabbed her. She wondered vaguely if it was part of being a Firebender.

"It was reckless to come here alone," Prince Zuko continued, sliding one hand down her neck, across her shoulder, down her arm. Katara didn't speak. Her energy was spent trying to keep her breathing steady.

"So why did you?" His hand was on her wrist.

"I...I promised I would," she said weakly. She could barely hear through her rushing heartbeat. "And Sokka, and Aang...they need me..." The words gave her a shadow of hope. She would live through this. She would find a way. Her mind began to clear as her courage returned.

Prince Zuko pulled her hand up and touched it to the unburned side of his face. Unbidden, her hand explored it, tracing his scalp, his ear, his jaw. Zuko's own hand rested lightly on hers, keeping it close.

"Anything else?" he asked softly into her ear.

"I don't know," she said honestly. They stood in complete silence for several minutes, her hand still searching his face as the last fiery hues left the sky. Katara's eyes opened wider to accommodate the darkness.

"This isn't about Aang, is it?" she asked suddenly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Zuko give her a sidelong glance.

"You are obsessed."

"He's my friend, so I have every right to be. But it's not like you can talk: you've been chasing us from the beginning."

"I've been following the Avatar," Zuko corrected. "You have nothing to do with it."

"Of course I do! I already told you, he's my friend. I'm not going to let anything happen to him."

"So that's why you came here alone," he observed. Katara couldn't counter it, so she sat in silence for a few moments.

"Why did you ask me to come?" she asked at last. Zuko hesitated for several breaths, and finally leaned his head deeper into her palm. He gave no further answer.

Yet something about the gesture was enough. _This really isn't about Aang,_ she realized.

"Why do you think you can't be trusted?" she asked, unnerved by the silence and her own curiosity.

"It isn't what I think. It's a fact." Darkness had descended on the clearing, bringing with it a slight chill. Instinctively Katara leaned back into Zuko's chest, taking shelter in his warmth.

"Who makes it a fact?" she asked.

"...My father..." Zuko said quietly. Katara's head jerked slightly, and she saw his face in the moonlight, and the cruel shadows it cast over his scarred face.

"What? Why?" Katara couldn't imagine any father unlike her own: a kind man, a protector, a man who would always be there to comfort and encourage. A man who would never even consider leaving his children except to ensure their safety. Surely no father could label his son untrustworthy.

"Treason," Zuko said simply, bitterly. Katara blinked. _Could anything be harsh enough to turn a father against his son?_

"I don't understand..."

"You wouldn't." It wasn't an insult. Only a fact.

"Then explain it to me. I'll try to understand. Please." Zuko said nothing. "Please." She felt his chest move against her back as he took in a deep breath. A warm wind disturbed her hair as he exhaled.

"He banished me," he said at last. "I challenged him, and he banished me." The words were heavy, and they chilled Katara to the bone. She had known that Zuko was in exile, but she had never really wondered why. Or who had forced him to leave his home.

"Why did you challenge him?" His grip on her shoulder tightened slightly.

"Because he was wrong. He...what he did...it was wrong." She glanced up at him. His eyes were closed against some unseen pain.

"What was it?"

"He...he ordered a slaughter." He spat out the words as though they were seeped in venom. "He had Zhou kill...hundreds...of women and children...He wanted to draw the Waterbenders into the war." Katara's free hand flew to her throat. Her blood seemed to have turned to ice.

_It can't be..._

"What did you do?" she breathed. Zuko's grip on her shoulder would have been painful, but she could barely feel it.

"I challenged him. I demanded that he stop. He made sure I was punished for it."

"What happened?" she pried again.

"Agni Kai. A Firebender's duel...I should have known better than to agree to fight...My father more than defeated me; he allowed me to leave with my life and a scar. But nothing more."

"Except a ship and crew?" Katara added meekly. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was impossible. People hurt each other, scarred each other, killed each other. That much was fact. She had lived with it for years. But _family_...It was impossible. Just impossible. Zuko's father...he had to have shown mercy, right? He had to. Because that's what fathers did. Because nobody, nothing was completely evil. There was some good in everyone. Wasn't there?

She clutched closer to Zuko, but nothing could drive out the icy numbness that was gathering in her veins, the stirred dregs of what she had been dealing with for years.

"No. They serve my uncle. The ship is his. He offered to stay with me until...until the day I can return home." Katara brightened slightly. _There's hope!_ There was still faith to be had in humanity, in family...

"When is that?" she asked.

"The day I bring my father the Avatar."


	7. Torn to Pieces

Disclaimer: Do I have to repeat myself? Honestly? (glances at the army of lawyers) Yup. Okay: I don't own anything.

AN: I'm so sorry I was late! My computer broke, but we fixed it, so here's the next chapter! Forgive me!

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**Chapter 7: Torn To Pieces**

Aang and Sokka slept peacefully, satisfied by the rewards of Katara's expedition.

Katara, however, was not so lucky.

Her conversation with Prince Zuko had lasted almost two hours, and the return journey had left her exhausted, though that was little compared to her inner fatigue. But Sokka and Aang would never know of that. At least, not from her. She tossed and turned restlessly, trying to clear her head.

Getting Zuko..._Prince Zuko_, she reminded herself... to speak to her was difficult, but slowly she had managed to uncover a good amount of his past, often accompanied, though more often provoked, by parts of her own.

The last few years of his life had been brutal; filled with the abuses of Commander Zhou and other high ranking officers, with the struggle to obey his father's impossible order to find and capture the Avatar, and the scar that served as an ever-present reminder of his own 'weakness': mercy.

It had been then that Katara surprised herself. She had turned around suddenly, before she even knew what she was doing, and hugged him.

"There is _nothing _weak about sparing lives," she said.

For a moment, Zuko remained unmoving and stiff, shocked by her sudden action. But he relaxed, putting his own arms around Katara and drawing further into the embrace. It was far from passionate; but soothing. Calming. There was a sweet comfort in the way they held each other, and Katara felt a gentleness in his touch that she didn't think he was capable of.

The tension that she was sure had always consumed him ebbed away as the hug continued. The militant pace of his breathing slowed, steadied, until it became the soft inhale and exhale of a living creature.

Of a young man.

They had parted shortly after, and Katara found another sack of food at the edge of the clearing. There was more in it than usual, and Sokka and Aang had enjoyed that.

_Come again tomorrow_.

It was all Zuko..._Prince _Zuko...had said before he left.

"I don't think you should go back, Katara." The words weren't exactly shocking, but that didn't lessen her surprise.

"Why not?" she managed to choke out. Sokka looked at her like she was insane. That wasn't exactly inconceivable, either.

"'Why not?' Katara, you're running straight into a Fire Navy ship! It's _dangerous_. You know what those monsters can do." She opened her mouth, about to say something stupid. _Zuko isn't dangerous and he's no monster. He tried to save his people! He tried to do the right thing! And he's paying for that now, don't you see, Sokka? Didn't you ever wonder how he got that scar?_ But her brother wouldn't understand, he wouldn't ever accept those words as the truth. So she filled her open mouth with the only words she could think of.

"But I haven't--"

"I _know _you haven't gotten caught yet, but you're taking way too many chances," Sokka interrupted. Katara wondered vaguely if he had been rehearsing this while she was away. Though it wasn't as though he had been short of time. "Sooner or later they're going to wise up and you won't stand a chance."

"I can handle it, Sokka," she protested. She made an effort to sound angry. Insulted, perhaps, that he was calling her weak. It could work...

"Not alone you can't!" And with that, she sacked that plan.

"But Aang can't come, and you're not nearly quiet enough--"

"Exactly!" Sokka said, ignoring the offense. "You can't go back, Katara." The Waterbender searched her mind desperately for a better excuse without honestly knowing why. She spotted Aang from the corner of her eye, watching their argument with wary resignation. Katara formed another plan instantly.

"But we need the supplies," she argued, finally pursuing her brother's bottomless stomach. "We still need to eat until Appa gets better."

"He's getting better." Aang added suddenly. "He'll be able to fly in a few days, and we've got enough food to last us until then." Katara was startled by the remark, but she was not to be defeated.

"Yes, but we don't have enough to last us long after that. And we don't know when we'll find another village." She paused, letting the words sink in. There were no further arguments. "I'll only go one more time. No more after that, okay?" She watched as Sokka's face softened, and he heaved a concerned sigh.

"All right," he said at last. "I'm just worried about you, Katara. Be careful, okay?"

Tension filled the rest of the day, mounting at last at dusk, just as she left. Aang and Sokka saw her off, leaving her with wishes of 'good luck' and 'be careful'. Katara was tempted not to go back to the clearing. But she had to.

And she didn't even know why.

After all, she had won. She had survived, never told Prince Zuko about Aang or let anyone follow her to the campsite. Sokka and Aang were safe and they would be leaving soon. After this one meeting, things would be normal again. She would be able to eat when she wanted, go where she wanted, never have to lie to Sokka or Aang again, or have to trade kisses and secret meetings for bread. There was nothing gloomy or miserable about it. She had succeeded. She had persevered.

Then why was she so disappointed?

The setting sun dyed the air with now familiar hues of red and gold. _The colors of fire_, she mused. It didn't match her mood, but it managed to cheer her slightly.

"Katara," Zuko's familiar voice said. She smiled despite herself as he entered the clearing. It felt so...good... when he said her name.

"Hello," she answered softly.

Zuko kept his distance again during their meeting, staying at the edge of the clearing, while she stood at the creek's bank. Their talk was casual and relaxed, though they spoke of harsh, cruel things, of life and death and a hundred other things, all of which faded into the night as quickly as they had appeared. Long after the sun had disappeared behind the horizon, Zuko finally acknowledged the end of the meeting.

"Come back tomorrow, Katara," he said, turning to leave. Katara drew an oddly painful breath.

"I...I won't be able to come back," she said. Zuko froze.

"What?" he asked sharply. She could almost see his mind working through the back of his head. The tone in his voice spoke volumes of the temper he was clearly struggling to control.

"We...Aang and Sokka and I...We'll be leaving soon. Appa's getting better, and Sokka's worried, and he wants to leave as soon as possible, and..." she allowed the word to drift into the night, unable to think of any other reasons.

"Why?" he asked. Now his voice sounded strangled, but he hadn't moved from where he stood.

"They're worried about me, Zuko. They think I've been stealing from you. They're afraid for me, they think I'll get captured, or killed, or--"

"But you won't be. You have my word, Katara." She shook her head.

"But how can I explain that to them?" she shifted her weight uncomfortably, then moved closer to him to prove her point. "If they had any idea what's really going...they wouldn't...What do you think their reaction would be? They would never speak to me again if they knew the truth" she spoke, the last part coming out more ragged. "I couldn't let that happen" she admitted in a smaller voice.

She moved to go past him, distraught by her predicament, but Zuko held out an arm to stop her, pulling her towards him and holding her fast. Katara attempted to move away...

But Zuko didn't release her. Instead his arms tightened around her. She tried to shrink back, but the effort was useless.

"Let me go," she breathed, suddenly frightened.

"No," Zuko said simply.

"Please," she pleaded softly. "They're waiting for me. Please."

"I won't let you go," he whispered into her ear, causing an odd thrill to race across her body. "Not for nothing." He hooked his finger under her chin and pulled her up to look him in the eyes. "I'll give you back your freedom...for a kiss." Katara tried to answer, but her voice caught in her throat.

_This is just like before, just a trade,_ she thought, pulling herself up and brushing her lips against his.

_No, it's not._ He gently pulled his hands from her waist to her arms, up her shoulders, until he was caressing her face. Katara treasured the feel of his lips and hands, wished it would never end, mourning the knowledge that it would. But a part of her screamed at herself for not trying to fight him, to escape, to do anything but kiss him like this. That part of her hated herself for enjoying the kiss so much. And for regretting having to leave him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his mouth. He pulled away slightly.

"Don't be," he murmured into her ear, submitting a single kiss on her neck.

Neither of them saw the moonlight glitter, just past the edge of the clearing, on a single pair of careful, watchful eyes.

Zuko's hands left her face, following her shoulders down, down, until he had her hands clasped in his. He brought them together and released her, stepping back.

"You're free to go," he said at last, and he backed away from her until he disappeared into the shadows. Katara stood in stunned silence for a moment, before resignedly stepping forward and picking up the sack of food.

_This is what I came for,_ she reminded herself. But there was a sadness in the thought. Her feet were oddly heavy as she returned to camp.

Three days passed without event. Appa healed, and Katara pushed aside her thoughts of Zuko, focusing instead on anything and everything she could do. No task was too small or menial for her, so long as it kept her occupied for a moment. She was more thoughtful, than she had been before, but if Aang and Sokka noticed, they said nothing. The supplies lasted without strain, and on the morning of the third day, all three children climbed into the saddle on Appa's back. They flew away, to the north and whatever city awaited them there.

They never looked back.

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AN: I said I'd do this, so you, my loyal reviewers, now get SHOUTOUTS! Thank you all for reading my fic, I'm so glad that you do, and that you review. :)

Zukos Girl: Yes, I did. Zuko was such an adorable kid, wasn't he? And...he had hair... hee hee hee...

Queen-of-Asarath: Yeah, it is kind of a rule for her, but that's something I like about her character. Besides her being completely okay with stealing (from pirates and Firebenders. That's it.) And thank you for the compliment. I watched the episodes about a million times, and they slightly forshadow it, but it takes a while to get it. So blame my lucky guesses on too much free time.

Tanak: I'm sorry for confusing you. I hope that episode cleared things up a little bit.

Kori Hime: Thank you! I'm updating now.

Hotaru: (creeps toward Hotaru) Here it is...don't hurt me...

Hi: Thank you. I love details. Sometimes I think I put in too many...

PrinceZuko'sGirl/Katara: It's going. And going, and going...

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Sorry if I missed anyone, but I only replied to chapter 6 reviews. There's so many! Wow. Anyway, more soon!


	8. The Fine Line

Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it yet.

AN: 100 reviews! I am so happy! You guys have just made my lifetime, you know that? I'm used to single digit review counts on my story, so wow. And thanks to all of you who took the time to write those long reviews:I remember them, and they help me write better. Thanks also to Incessant Escapist, my wonderful Beta. Andhere'sthe next chappie! WE HAVE NOTYET REACHED THE END!There is at least one more chapter, though I'm planning on a lot more.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Fine Line**

The fires at the ends of the candles rose and fell with Prince Zuko's breathing. He deepened his inhalation, sending the candles into powerful flares until they licked the ceiling, leaving soft black stains on the steel before he exhaled. He released all his breath, reducing the once magnificent flames to humble cinders, just before he returned them to their former glory. He smiled despite himself as he continued the exercise.

It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

As he continued the meditation, he began to play with the fires, flaring one side while he smothered the other, than reversing it, and having it work in a few other subtle patterns. His uncle urgently opened the door.

"Prince Zuko!" he cried. "We've found him! We've caught sight of the Avatar!" Prince Zuko thoughtfully opened his good eye to study his uncle. If his red face and labored breath were any indication, he had run here from wherever he had been. His dining room, most likely. He flared and dimmed the candles three more times before he got to his feet.

"We've found him!" Uncle Iroh repeated as though his nephew had gone deaf.

"I heard you," Prince Zuko said calmly.

"Well?"

"We're following him, aren't we?" he asked.

"Yes..."

"Then there's no problem." He quickly walked from the room, barking orders at the crew as they passed him. By the time he reached the top deck, the catapult was already being put into place and loaded with pitch.

"Take aim!" he commanded, and the weapon was shifted to face the flying bison. Prince Zuko thrust out his hand and ignited the pitch with a long, elegant flare.

"FIRE!" Chains rattled and wind roared as the flaming projectile took to the air. The flying bison twisted in flight, trying to evade the weapon, though a few flecks still managed to imbed themselves in its fur. Two figures dressed in blue-- Katara and Sokka, as the Prince's spyglass revealed--hurriedly extinguished the small fires. Prince Zuko smiled in satisfaction.

The catapult was reloaded and aimed, the soldiers waited only for his signal.

"Move the target to the left," he ordered. The soldiers looked puzzled, but they obeyed nonetheless. He issued another impressive flare and ignited the tar, and a moment later the missile was launched. The bison turned sharply to the right to avoid being hit, and raced to the east in a straight line. Prince Zuko's smirk only widened.

The men were beginning to set the catapult up for another round, but he lowered his hand to halt them.

"...Sir?" one of the soldiers said, his puzzlement growing.

"Follow them, but keep the catapult ready," Prince Zuko said, before turning and walking confidently away.

"This is unusual," Uncle Iroh noted from just next to the hatch. In his hand was a fan, which was vigorously blowing the foul smelling smoke away from the retired general's face. Prince Zuko raised an eyebrow.

"What is?" he asked quietly.

"You," Uncle Iroh said simply. "You deliberately abstain from firing at the Avatar. You are leaving the deck while he is within sight. And you haven't lost your temper yet. In fact, you're smiling," he mused. "Are you feeling well?"

"Very well, Uncle," Prince Zuko said. "Things are going exactly as I planned." He entered the hatch.

"Would you care to elaborate?" his uncle asked, following him into the steel hallway.

"Trying to shoot that oversized furball out of the sky is close to impossible," Prince Zuko explained. "And most likely the Avatar would flee to the nearest island and hide there until his bison can recover. But that animal needs to rest sometime. If we can keep it herded away from any islands long enough, we can drive it into exhaustion. And then the Avatar will have no way to escape."

"There was an island to the west of us," Uncle Iroh acknowledged, recalling the map his nephew had consulted on the way to the deck. "What do you intend to do until the bison exhausts itself?"

"Train, Uncle. I intend to train."

Prince Zuko was true to his word. When he reached the training hall he began the exercises that a dozen tutors had taught him. Uncle Iroh watched in interest, adding comments and criticisms as he deemed appropriate.

There were surprisingly few of the latter.

Prince Zuko was unusually focused, his blows were perfectly controlled, yet unrestrained. The flames that issued from the attacks were drawn expertly drawn from his breath, rather than from muscle, as his old habit would have dictated. He corrected the few errors as soon as they were mentioned, until his every movement seemed flawless.

Uncle Iroh smiled. "An impressive improvement, Prince Zuko," he said. "I thought the girl would have a good effect on you, but I didn't realize it would be so great."

Prince Zuko froze in the middle of a punch, the flame that spiraled from his fist dissipated into a stunted ember.

"What?" he asked, too shocked to sound angry.

"The girl...what was her name?...Oh, yes. Katara, wasn't it? The Waterbender girl."

"_What_?" Prince Zuko repeated.

"Come now! You didn't think I wouldn't notice you sneaking away every night, did you?"

"How...how did you know her _name_?" The young Prince's voice was between a breath and a hiss.

"I followed you," Uncle Iroh said as though it was the simplest thing in the world. "A clever trick. I recall doing the same when I was young." He chuckled good-naturedly and left the room before his nephew could react.

A trick.

Yes. A truly ingenious trick.

Prince Zuko had lived a hard life in the last two years. His exile had shown him the very meaning of pain, of disgrace, of failure. But as a prince, as what and who he was, he was forbidden to react. He could not sink into despair. He could not show fear. He could do nothing. The only emotion allowed him was the only one acknowledged as the forbearer of true power. Anger. He embraced that anger, if only because that was all that remained in his control. But he could not undo what was steadily happening to him.

Zuko's mind was constantly spinning with memory and shame. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his father's face as he delivered that scarring blow. Every night was plagued by hellish nightmares of agony and failure. Whenever he meditated, whenever there was silence, he could hear their voices, the generals plotting the deaths of a thousand innocents, his father's outraged command. And Zhou's words: _if he wanted you back, he would have called for you long ago. Avatar or no Avatar._ Every time he tried to spar or fight he found himself once more on the floor of an arena, begging for his father's forgiveness.

Zuko feared that he was losing his mind.

But he kept that to himself.

After all, who would listen to him? His uncle? Iroh, who had shown him mercy when nobody else would? Who sheltered him when his own father had abandoned him? Who still offered him meager praise, in hopes of softening the crushing blows of failure? Would the little respect Uncle Iroh still had for the young prince survive the threat of insanity? Or would he turn his back at last, and leave his nephew completely alone.

Prince Zuko hadn't doubted it. And so he kept it to himself, allowing every cruel thought, every fear and doubt, to fester within him until he was nearly consumed by it. It almost destroyed him completely.

His salvation had come in the form of a necklace. A simple object, yet strangely elegant, made from silk and stone. He had recognized it as belonging to Katara. The girl, as he had known her at the time.

Originally his plan had been the obvious: trade the necklace for information about the Avatar. But the girl had proved to be mulishly stubborn, and twice denied him. She had made it glaringly obvious that she had no interest in the trade. With that realization, the necklace became nearly worthless in his hands.

Nearly.

Prince Zuko had almost turned to threatening the girl when a new thought had occurred to him. Between his scar, his exile, and his brutal temper, he had become less than popular with the gentler sex. Not that he had time for flirting anyway, but he couldn't change the fact that, despite his responsibilities and burdens, he was still only a sixteen-year-old boy. And he couldn't help but overhear members of the crew as they lounged around during peaceful times. He had no use for girls. But that fact did not soften the occasional edge of...what was it? Remorse?...remorse that he had never kissed one, that he had never felt a _real_ connection to another being?

Something that was quickly amended.

And why not? It was, after all, a substantial bargain: he had gathered experience in exchange for an otherwise worthless piece of cloth and rock. The act would have been severely less appealing if there had been anything else he could have gained from it. It was, in hindsight, an act committed solely out of curiosity. And he wasn't disappointed: the kiss had felt good. _Very _good.

When he had discovered her sleeping on a beach soon after, a new plan was forged. A cunning plan, subliminal enough to unfold on its own.

Starvation had made her willing to listen to his pains and complaints. More than willing: she became curious, and personally sought the facts he was unsure of, she asked him questions, offered him sympathy. And surely enough, it worked. The haunting nightmares dwindled and left him. The mocking, murderous voices subsided into silence. And that horrifying image of his father, seared into his mind for all eternity, began to fade. Focus returned with his peace of mind: meditation became relaxing and calm, as it should have been. Fighting became easier, his blows fell stronger, faster, with more accuracy, and his control over flames advanced to an exhilarating degree.

When the girl told him she couldn't come again, he was only slightly annoyed. He could still improve, he hadn't reached perfection yet, but he was satisfied with his current results nonetheless.

But he didn't tell _her_ that. Because if opportunity presented itself again in the future, she would need to be completely oblivious to her use. Instead he recalled her original purpose. The loss of her previous fear towards him had done no harm to the pleasure of her kiss: it had made it _much_ sweeter.

Prince Zuko dreamed that night.

It wasn't an old nightmare.

It was no premonition of triumph or victory.

It was a simple vision.

_In the dream, he saw Katara. She was at rest, sitting placidly against the trunk of a tree. A stream wound across the ground like a sleeping dragon, creeping just close enough to her side for her to dip her slender fingers in the sparkling water. Her eyes were half closed, as though she was listening to soft music. Her hair was disturbed by a faint caress of wind. A gentle smile danced on her lips._

_Zuko knealt at her side and took her hand in his. Katara looked up, but she did nothing to hinder him._

_He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it._

Prince Zuko punched at the empty air, sending a blaze across the sparring room. He delivered a kick immediately after, repeating the motion again and again to lock the feeling into his muscles. The task was simple, and his mind began to wander. Before he could stop it, his thoughts settled on their own accord.

_Katara._

He kicked harder, farther, faster, trying to drown out the thought with the sounds of roaring flames.

_Her hair…it's so soft, so silky, so perfect…and rich with her smell…_

He shook his head to clear it as he touched down from the series of attacks, and an instant later he erupted into a barrage of punches.

_Her eyes, as deep as the sea, the color of a misty dawn. Always sparkling with laughter and innocence…_

_Focus. FOCUS!_ He commanded his mind. _Train. You have to find the Avatar. You have to beat him. Nothing else matters._ That was the key. He sent a dozen blows at practice dummy, mentally painting the Avatar's annoying face on the figure. That little kid wouldn't stand a chance. There would be no escape for him. That's all that mattered. Several minutes passed as his thoughts focused on his goal: _get to the Avatar. Challenge him. Beat him. Beat him._

_Her smile was so kind, so gentle. And so…_

He kicked at the dummy, engulfing it in a sea of flame.

_Katara…_

_STOP THINKING ABOUT HER!_ He commanded his rebellious thoughts. _Forget her! Forget her! She is nothing. Nothing but a pawn. A tool. I used her and now I'm done with her and I never have to look at her again._

_But the way she held me…_

_It doesn't matter! She's gone now! It doesn't matter anymore! Just forget about her!_

_Forget? Forget what? The softness of her touch? The taste of her mouth? I…_ The thought formed gradually, deliberately, and Prince Zuko felt his sweat-drenched body slow and finally halt as the realization dawned on him. _She cared about me. She honestly cared about me._ His body became rigid as the memory flooded his mind. His pulse quickened. _And I…I care about her._ His mind raced back to the night that Katara had left him for good.

Why had he not recognized what had happened? Had he not understood it? Had he not wanted to understand? He knew that he was using her, that he was taking advantage of her hunger and her curiosity and…her affection? Her genuine kindness?

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and backed away from the sparring dummy. Staggered, really, as the effect of his ruthless practice took hold. His back touched the wall and he slowly slid to the ground, his aching legs no longer willing to support his weight. Uncle Iroh entered the room and saw his nephew, completely exhausted, gasping for breath on the ground.

"You really shouldn't push yourself so hard, Prince Zuko," he said. "I know you're excited, but you still have limits. Go and clean up. And I'll make you a cup of tea, all right?" Prince Zuko glanced at his uncle and nodded before pulling himself to his feet.


	9. Not Something I Deserve

Disclaimer: Prince Zuko lifted one fist and delivered a flaming punch, burning to cinders any accusations that the authoress owned anything and the hairpieces of all lawyers who attempted to sue her.

AN: Don't give up on me yet. There's more. I've written chapter 10 and sent it to Incessant, but my computer's haywire again, so acutally getting that chapter back online might take a few days. Don't kill me!

**Chapter 9: Not Something I Deserve

* * *

**

"Prince Zuko," one of the sailors said, trotting into the sparring hall. "The flying bison is landing on an island nearby." Prince Zuko noticed his uncle offering him one of his signature looks.

"Very good," he said.

* * *

Katara petted Appa before stretching her stiff joints. The bison had flown for two days without rest before he had begun to creep to the ground, taking shelter in a small island. Prince Zuko's ship had forced them to work for that refuge, sending flaming tar rushing through the air whenever they threatened to descend or change course. Katara was more than confident that they were being shepherded somewhere by the young Prince, and, frankly, that knowledge disturbed her. 

Now Appa was sprawled on the ground, panting heavily, his long, fluffy fur matted and his six limbs shaking from strain. The three children had decided to hide on the island as long as possible, to give Appa all the rest he needed, though it was less than he deserved.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to go alone, Prince Zuko?" Iroh asked as his nephew marched down the steel ramp. "It would probably work better if you brought some reinforcements…" 

"I can handle it, uncle."

Sokka delivered a blow to the empty air. Aang and his sister were out practicing Waterbending somewhere nearby. He couldn't argue that it was just dumb sorcery anymore, but he still preferred fighting with his instincts and boomerang. It was tangible. Reliable. He repeated the motions his father had taught him years before, when he had promised to take care of the village and especially Katara. He had been given his father's prized boomerang to help him keep that promise.

And he had no intention of going back on it.

If that overstuffed Prince tried to show his ugly face, he'd be sorry.

Sokka would make sure of that.

* * *

"You go on ahead, Aang," Katara said to the young Avatar. "I'm going to practice some more." Aang waved goodbye as he left to check up on Appa. 

His Waterbending had really improved over the few hours they had spent training. Katara was past feeling jealous of him anymore: he had a knack for this kind of thing. And why not? He _was_ the Avatar, and he'd already mastered Wind. She knew well enough that bending became easier with experience.

Katara shrugged and returned to her own studies, memorizing the figures on her scroll and trying to imitate the painted figures.

Another hour passed, and another. The afternoon waned steadily into evening, and she rolled up her scroll and prepared to leave the clearing that surrounded the spring._It's lucky we found this place,_ she thought. An island as small as this one, though still with a supply of fresh water, was an incredible blessing. It would buy them time before they had to leave the island, and it made a perfect place to practice Waterbending, safely hidden from the coast where the Fire Navy might spot them. She stood and stepped to the edge of the encircling trees.

* * *

Sokka lowered his boomerang. He had worked on his precision enough for that day and worked up a satisfying sweat. It was time to head in for the night, and besides, he was getting hungry. He streached in satisfaction and yawned, when he thought he heard Katara's voice, drifting on the wind. 

"You said you would let me go…"

* * *

Aang looked up as an eerie chill brushed his neck. He stroked Appa's side nervously. 

"Something's coming, boy," he said.

* * *

Warm, strong arms reached out from behind Katara and wrapped around her waist. At first she struggled against the grip, fighting for escape, but she stopped as a familiar voice murmured into her hear. 

"Shh…It's all right. You're safe with me," Zuko promised.

"You…you said you'd let me go if I kissed you," Katara said softly. She became completely still, waiting for his next move.

"I know," Zuko whispered, allowing his lips to brush her ear. Katara felt a thrill race through her at the touch. "But this is no trade."

* * *

_"This is no trade…"_ Sokka froze. He knew that sickening voice. He tightened his grip on his weapon and raced through the trees, away from the camp, toward the sound of the voice. He stopped just out of sight of a small clearing, surrounding a spring. 

And he nearly choked.

The Firenation Prine, that sick pile of ashes and slime, held his sister in a deathgrip around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. He was whispering something inaudible in her ear, and she was glancing back at him, her expression guarded. She didn't struggle.

_That's right, Katara,_ Sokka thought_. Don't try to fight. If you do, he'll burn you to a cinder. Don't worry. Just stay alive-I'll save you…_

Though he wasn't sure how. Most likely, if he charged in now, that monster would try to use Katara as a hostage or a shield. He would have to wait.

"Then why are you doing this?" Katara asked, the calm response to whatever the flame blooded beast had last whispered to her.

"Because I want to," he breathed, just loud enough for Sokka to hear.

And in a flash, he pulled Katara around to face him and he did the unthinkable.

* * *

Katara felt his lips on hers before she was aware of being moved. His warmth--his intoxicating, wonderful warmth--enveloped her as he pulled her closer to him. His embrace was almost desperately tight, as though he was afraid she would grow wings and fly away if he relaxed for even a moment. 

But Katara had no intention of flying away. Her fingers traced his handsome, scarred face, memorizing every detail, every feature of her sweet, forbidden…

Her thought was interrupted when she felt his tongue brush across her lips. She parted them slightly, easily accepting his invitation. Zuko's tongue slipped into her mouth, making her moan softly and turning her knees to water. She rested her hands on his shoulders, allowing him to support her weight.

This kiss was different from the first two they had shared. It was deeper. Purer. There was a certain…passion in him that she couldn't recognize, but she didn't fear it. She wasn't afraid of him anymore. She…

Both her and Zuko's eyes opened suddenly as they heard a scream...

* * *

"_GET AWAY FROM HER_!" 

Sokka couldn't take it anymore, but he wouldn't have to. Katara's trick seemed to have worked, and that fire-spitting snake loosened his grip on her. With a murderous cry, the young warrior lunged at the Prince. Zuko whirled away from Katara, freeing her before throwing his arm up to block the blade in Sokka's hand. Sokka didn't bother backing away and struck again, savagely pleased when the weapon was torn from the leather armor, dark with blood. The Prince's surprise wore off and he drew his own dagger, countering another brutal stroke with it. Sokka was undaunted by the defense and moved faster, circling Zuko, trying to land a blow across his back. But he was countered again, surprised by the Prince's lightning speed.

But that didn't matter.

Sokka was better. He knew it. He had to be.

He had a promise to keep.

And a sister to protect.

* * *

Katara gasped and backed away. Zuko and Sokka were fighting like animals now, running and striking and blocking each other so fast that they blurred into the crimson air. Dark blood spattered the ground, but neither stopped or slowed. The air was thick with snarls and hissed threats and the crash of steel striking steel. She wanted to run, wanted to fall to the ground, wanted to throw up, so delirious was she, though if it was from the carnage or the violence or the dizzying motions, she wasn't certain. 

_This is wrong._ She thought, the only coherent thought that penetrated her spinning head_. This has to stop. Now._

* * *

Zuko hissed from pain as his opponents blade bit into his skin once again. He had no time to think, too busy trying to keep the insane boy from removing his head. But he didn't need to think. He understood the unadulterated fury in the other boy's face well enough: it would be a fight to the death. 

And it was not one that Zuko intended to lose.

With a serpentine motion, he locked Sokka's blade in a parry and raised his free hand to strike the other's face.

The blast of flame would kill the boy instantly.

And then he saw Katara. She had rushed in to join the fray, her frantic face visible immediately over her brother's shoulder. He redirected his fist, sending it past the other side of Sokka's face. The spray of fire scattered harmlessly in the air, barely scorching his opponent's hair. Had the attack come any closer, Katara would have been caught and killed in the same moment as her brother. He spared a glance at her terrified face before his opponent recovered from the shock of the attack and struck at him again.

"Stop!" he heard Katara cry desperately, grabbing at Sokka's arms. Zuko almost took advantage of his opponent's sudden handicap. His dagger was on a beeline to his heart, but he pulled away suddenly as Katara rushed between them, still fighting to restrain her brother as she shielded him from Zuko.

"I said stop it," she gasped. Zuko lowered his dagger slightly. He had no intention of hurting Katara. Never.

The Avatar chose this time to make his appearance.

He dropped out of his glider, staring in shock at the scene before him.

"Katara?" the Avatar asked, evidently choosing the only person currently capable of speech. "What's going on here?"

Zuko glanced at the little boy, considering how long it would take him to grab him, if he had time to do so before the confused Airbender took to the sky. And if Sokka would be able to kill him before then.

"Katara?" The Avatar asked again. Aang, Katara had said his name was. Zuko shifted his gaze to her. She looked nervous, even frightened, and he couldn't ignore the guilt that she was so desperately trying to hide.

_What is going on with her?_ He wondered

Then it hit him._'What do you think their reaction would be?_

_They would never speak to me again if they knew the truth…_

_…I couldn't let that happen…'_ she had seemed close to tears when she said those words.

Memory flooded back into his mind, of humiliation, of failure, of being ostracized by his entire nation…

"I…Aang, please, try to understand…" she began. Her pupils had become alarmingly small, and she was visibly forcing herself not to look at the ground or run away.

_I'm going to die for this,_ Zuko thought grimly.

"What do you _think_ is going on, Avatar?" he snapped, cutting off Katara's fractured words. "I was in the middle of seducing your little friend here when this _idiot_ interrupted me." _He'd better be, if he's going to believe this._ "But everything worked out anyway: you're here. Though it's a pity it didn't work sooner: I was sure you'd come looking for her after I caught her stealing from my ship. Or didn't you wonder how she was getting past my guards so easily? But no matter: I have you now, and you're going to come to the Fire Nation as my prisoner. Immediately." He considered adding an evil laugh for effect, but decided that it wasn't necessary. Instead he ran at the boy, who struck him with a blast of air before rushing out of his way.

Sokka broke from Katara's grip and rushed at Zuko, his blade bared.

"ZUKO YOU LOW LIFE FREAKING _MONSTER!_" Zuko blocked dozens of the flurry of blows, though he couldn't escape enough to spare much of his blood. He allowed himself to be pushed back through the line of trees, taking opportunity to flee when he could. He made sure never to look at Katara. Luckily enough, the enraged teenager was too furious to watch where he was going. Though he refused to stop, he was clearly exhausted, and didn't notice the tree root he tripped over before he hit the ground. Zuko thanked all the gods above and raced to the beach.

* * *

Sokka pulled himself to his feet, gasping for breath. The wind had been knocked from his lungs, but that wasn't going to stop him. He'd tear that…freak…apart. He would. He would murder him for doing that to Katara. 

He looked wildly around and realized something crucial:

'That Freak' was nowhere to be seen, and had left no trail to follow.

Frustrated and exhausted, he sank to his knees and didn't move.

Aang landed at his side a few moments later.

"Are you okay, Sokka?" he asked.

"…Yeah," he coughed. And then: "…No. No. I'm going to kill that Prince. I swear I'm gonna…" he erupted into a coughing fit.

"Not like that, you're not," the Avatar said. "Just sit down for a while. Katara's bringing Appa. We're gonna leave here." Sokka looked up at him as though to argue. "You won't be able to fight like that," Aang added.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah. That's a good idea."

* * *

"I see you took the long way back, Prince Zuko," Uncle Iroh observed. He beckoned, and two of the sailors rushed out to Prince Zuko's side to help him to the ship's doctor. The Prince walked to the infirmary without their help, making sure to keep his head high despite his injuries. He may have lost the fight, but he had not lost his dignity. 

_Or have I?_ He mused bitterly as the doctor wrapped his numerous cuts and bruises._ How much pride do I have left, if I did all that for a girl? _

_For Katara?_

Oddly enough, he didn't regret it.

"I really am a fool," he sighed to his uncle later that day, leaning heavily on the railing at the front of the ship. Uncle Iroh glanced at him with interest.

"If you are, then that makes you the most noble fool I have ever laid eyes on," the old man shrugged. "I saw no fault in what you did for the girl."

"Katara," the Prince corrected absently. He didn't see his uncle's brief smile.

"Yes. Your choice was a wise one, and it no doubt saved her from a great deal of pain. But there truly is little hope for any true relationship between you two. For now." Prince Zuko rose above his dejection long enough to shoot his uncle an annoyed glare.

"You aren't helping," he said.

"For now! But a time _will_ come. And with it will come hope. If you truly care about her, then you can be patient until then."

"And when is 'then'?"

"It is a time when there is no need for secrets. When you need not tell lies to protect her."

"Never, then." Uncle Iroh laughed softly at his nephew's response.

"Far from it, Prince Zuko," he said pensively. "I think it will come sooner than you expect." He chuckled. "But then, 'even an hour is Eternity in a lover's eyes,' right, Prince Zuko?" The young man lifted his head, ignoring his uncle's suggestive remark.

"Yes, uncle," he agreed as he absently pulled a spyglass from his belt.

In the clouds, he saw a giant bison soaring, unhindered by threat or attack.

Resting on a saddle on the bison's back was the slender figure of a girl, her brother asleep at her feet, her other companion steering from the bison's head.

And for one brief instant, Katara looked back. Most likely she saw nothing. But perhaps…

"I'll wait until that time, then," he said.


	10. An Act of Desperation

Disclaimer: I own...nothing. Absolutely zip.

AN: I'm sorry it took so long, but here it is! I won't be able to update next week (I'm going to camp) so I'm giving you two chapters, and the setup of a new twist in the plot!

* * *

**Chapter 10: An Act of Desperation**

Katara desperately scanned the horizon from Appa's back. Seeing nothing, she shook her head violently, as though that would summon help or clear the horrific images from her mind. Tears threatened to leak from her eyes, but she blinked them back.

There's nothing to mourn about, she told herself angrily. _Everything will be fine. Everything. I'll find help and everything will be all right. _

Aang won't die.

, she told herself angrily. 

Things will go back to normal.

She just needed to find help first.

And she would need dry eyes to find it. Empty blue ocean lapped beneath her and Appa, but the search remained fruitless.

Come on, she thought. _Come on. Somebody. Anybody, I need help. Aang needs help. Please!_ And then she saw it. At first she rubbed at her treacherously red eyes, thinking it was just a trick of light or mind. But the image remained: a tendril of black smoke, and beneath it, a ship. She cried out, at once overjoyed and devastated by her discovery. For a moment she struggled with herself.

, she thought. And then she saw it. At first she rubbed at her treacherously red eyes, thinking it was just a trick of light or mind. But the image remained: a tendril of black smoke, and beneath it, a ship. She cried out, at once overjoyed and devastated by her discovery. For a moment she struggled with herself. 

The ship was made of steel. A Fire Navy ship. That meant that whoever was on board it was after Aang.

But Aang needed a doctor. She had been able to do nothing to help him, and Sokka couldn't do any better.

But there might be another ship further on. If she could just find it…

Aang didn't have that kind of time. If she stayed away too long, he would die.

Death and reincarnation was better than a life in prison.

But the world still needed him. The world still needed the Avatar. And they needed him by summer's end.

But there was still a chance…

She scanned the sea once more. Only the one ship floated beneath her. There was no other chance. There were no other choices: only death or capture.

"I'm so sorry, Aang," she whispered, before shaking Appa's reigns, steering him toward the ship. The bison sensed her desperation and dove down at a deadly speed, slowing only when it was level with the ship. Katara didn't wait for him to stop before she leapt from his back and over the railing. Her legs collapsed beneath her when she hit the steel, sending her tumbling painfully across the deck, before she came to a stop in the midst of a half dozen Fire Nation sailors. She pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the bruise that was forming on her side, a painful reminder of her landing. She looked desperately into the crowd before her eyes landed on-

"Zuko!" she nearly sobbed. Dignity and enmity were forgotten as she stumbled forward, latching desperately onto his shirt.

"Katara?" Zuko said, obviously surprised by her presence. "What are you doing here? What happened?" Katara's words were broken by shallow attempts to catch her breath.

"It's Aang…He's hurt. Badly. Zuko, I think he's going to die! Please help him," she begged, unshed tears adding a shimmer to her eyes. "Please."

* * *

Prince Zuko stared at Katara, not daring to believe his ears.

"I will," he said, regaining his composure. Katara smiled like a frightened child seeing her guardian. Her face was pale; her entire body was shaking. He felt the sudden need to make her still, if only to keep her from having a complete seizure.

He inwardly cursed himself for knowing nothing of comfort.

"You!" he barked at one of the sailors. "Have the doctor prepare his supplies. I want him ready to move as soon as we reach land." The sailor nodded and rushed off the deck to the infirmary.

"Which way?" he asked Katara in a low voice. She dislodged one of her hands from his shirt and pointed to the east.

"Over there," she said breathlessly. Prince Zuko voiced another series of orders to the crew, this time to speed up and head east. He took Katara's hand, in part to stop it from shaking, and clenched his teeth. It was deathly cold. He noticed that her breath had still not returned to a natural rhythm, that her eyes were too wide.

"Come with me," he said quietly, guiding her to the hatch that led below the deck. She stumbled, and he put his other hand on her shoulder and guided her to the infirmary.

"You're safe," he whispered into her ear when she stumbled again, remembering the effect those words had had on her in the past. "I'll take care of everything. You're safe…" She nodded weakly. She was clearly in shock. Had the fall done that to her? Or was it something else?

What happened to you? He wondered, leading her to an empty room. _What happened that could do all of this to you?_

He wondered, leading her to an empty room. 

"Stay here," he said, helping her to sit down on one of the cots. Prince Zuko left the room, returning moments later with the doctor and a blanket. He gave the doctor strict orders to take care of Katara before he returned to the deck and urged the helmsman to speed the ship even more. A moment later he marched to the bottom level, into the engine room, and began shoveling coal, doing everything in his power to shorten their journey. He had to occupy himself, to stop himself from going to see Katara. Because seeing her like that just made him want to kill something.

* * *

Katara shut her eyes against the bright red glow of the lamp. A few minutes before, the doctor had examined her, and finding no broken bones or cut skin, arranged her legs to hang in the air. To bring the blood back to her head, he had said. The lamp and blanket had been left to her, in hopes of restoring warmth to her icy body.

"Katara," she heard Zuko's voice from the doorway. The young Waterbender tried to sit up, only to be met by a wave of dizziness. A warm hand supported her back and helped her to sit up. Another gently slid her legs from the pillows that elevated them.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, opening her eyes. Sick worry veined her voice. As she looked up at him, she saw his face shrouded in crimson, as though he was hurt, bleeding, dying, like Aang…she closed her eyes desperately against the vision.

"No," Zuko said, helping her to her feet. "We've almost reached land. But I'm going to need your help to find the…to find Aang." She smiled slightly, though she didn't open her eyes. He was trying. That much was enough for her. His voice was stiff, He led her from the room, not asking why she insisted on walking blind. Good. She didn't want to say it. Because saying it out loud…that would make it true. And it couldn't be true. It mustn't be true. A moist, salty wind brushed her face as she reached the top of a ramp, and she opened her eyes. Bright, clear, clean sunlight streamed through brilliant white clouds. Appa swam along the side of the ship, creating waves in the tranquil azure sea. Nothing hinted at pain or tragedy or fear or death. Everything was all right. Everything was good. Just as Zuko had said. He would take care of everything, he would save Aang.

"Is that the right place?" he asked, pointing at a gleaming beach. Katara nodded. "Where is he?" he asked.

"I'll bring you there," Katara said, taking a step toward the front of the ship. Zuko pulled her back with a firm hand.

"No. You're in no condition to go out there. Stay here."

"But…but Aang! Sokka!"

"We'll take care of your friend. And your brother will probably struggle less if you aren't there." Katara blinked at him.

"What?"

"Like he did last time," he reminded her. The girl lowered her eyes.

"Oh."

"Where are they?" Zuko asked again. Katara pointed into the trees.

"There…past those trees, there's a path. It leads to a spring. Turn right at the spring and walk until you find a clearing. They…they should be there." She shuddered. "Please, let them still be there…"

Zuko, for want of a better response, nodded, then raised his head.

"Uncle!" he cried out. A moment later, uncle Iroh poked his head out from the hatch.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, though he eyed his nephew and Katara with interest.

"Take Katara to her room. I'll return as soon as possible." Zuko glanced at Katara. "With the Avatar."

* * *

AN: Once again, I respond to my wonderful reviewers! 151, can you believe it? Just so you know, my response to those who wrote 'Update soon', here's my latest, and I work as fast as I can. For the rest:

BKKtE-Faded Dreams: I read your Avatar fic, by the way. Bravo. What does the first part of your name stand for? Thank you for the praise.

CrazieGirlie4Eva: I'm sorry for keeping you up late. But I take it you enjoyed yourself? Thank you for pointing out the things you liked, that just made my week.

1KenshinLover: Yes...I originally planned it to be the end. But I changed my mind. That would just be too sad. So here's more!

Katara Water Bender Forever: You have no idea how long I was bouncing around the basement after reading your review. I agree, some Z/K fics are a bit...off... but I was flattered that you read my fic even though you don't really go for this kind of stuff. Thank you!

DanielLover: It was going to be the end. But mostly because most people wouldn't have found the sequel, I combined it with the story. Expect a bit of an angst overload for the next few chapters, but it, too, shall pass. Zuko will do strange things for the sake of Love. Have hope!

The Cougar: Thank you!

Cat O'thWind: Thank you. I live to be lovely.

BibleHermione: You flatter me, BibleHermione. Half the reason it takes me so long to write these chapters is because I can't get the words to work right. Chapter 10 is up at last, so please enjoy that.

Galenchia: I love your name, by the way. Thank you. I have, unfortunately, had to switch back from word to wordpad, so my typos will retrurn, but I'm working on keeping the mistakes out. And a lot of my details on Zuko's ship are speculation, so kindly forgive any errors there.

Yukaro: Thank you! Doing Zuko sweet and in character at the same time is _hard_! And I love reviewers like you who love my stories.

Star: I know. He had to give up his True Love...that was so sad to write. But very satisfying.

Tacti: I agree completely with your complaints, but with the breaks in perspective, I thought it would work better than to do everything from one person's point of view, because not one of them actually knew everything that was going on. I did have too many, though, and I appologize. As for Katara during the fight...argh. I know. But my options were limited: either I could have her sit back in shock for a while or I could transform her into Xena the Warrior Princess and have her break up the fight with her awesome weaponry expertise. I have a bad tendancy to go too far to either side at times. But realistically, if two guys were going at each other as agressively as Zuko and Sokka were, she probably wouldn't have survived an attempt to stop them. It was only chance that Zuko saw her when he did. And if you've ever seen two teenaged guys attack each other with blades (I have) you'd know that your first reaction is to just sit and stare for a while. It's quite captivating. That, and instinct tells you that interference means death. And yes, I know I'm evil for making you fall in love with ZukotheSexy, but then, I'm an evil person. Mwuhahahah.

Mushrambolover:Iroh is always right, my friend.

Monito: Yes. It was stupid. Because as clever as Zuko is, he's a real idiot sometimes. But it was eithersay that or make Katara lose the respect of her friends and family. And he loves her too much tosubject her to that.

Zuko's Girl: Notyour favorite? Pity. It's mine. Butfear not, it'snot the end! There is still more to come!

Hikari Yume: See? Goodthings come to those who take achance and read the stories with the terrible summaries. I'm glad you liked it!

Chips Dip: Thank you. I'm glad you loved it.

MyOwnWorld: Yes. Sad. But if you love someone, they will inevetably bring you grief. But that's part of what makes love all the sweeter.

Arwey: I know. I do too. Actually, Sokka in this chapter is based on what my brother intends to do to the first boy I date. True story, knives and all (except my brother has a sword). I love Zuko too, and it hurt me so bad to do this to him! But fear not, there is more!

PussinBoots: Your wish is my command.


	11. Aid Unasked For

Disclaimer: I own...a pair of socks. And and a bottle of sunscreen. And my bike. And my brain, when I haven't leased it off to someone else. But not Avatar. Or Zuko would be MINE.

AN: I saw last night's episode...I liked it. Very much. Very, _very_ much. And I'm going to stop typing now before I break something.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Aid Unasked For**

Iroh led the girl through the hatch and down an iron lined hallway, bringing the girl to her quarters. Or at least, he assumed it was her room: there was only one empty, inhabitable chamber on the ship, save for the brig and the infirmary, but Prince Zuko had mentioned neither of these. Again, he could only assume that she was to be taken to an unoccupied room. His nephew was protective enough of the young girl not to room her with any of the sailors...or himself. Of course, considering the way they had been kissing...

Iroh smiled slightly. _I sound like a dirty old man,_ he thought without shame. When they finally arrived at the room, he found that his first assumption had been correct, evidenced by the lamp and bedding that now occupied the previously empty chamber. The placement was conveniently next to the room Iroh shared with his nephew, though much of that could be attributed to chance.

"Thank you," the girl said, her voice faint. She seemed to recognize the room and staggered inside, sitting heavily on the iron cot. Iroh realized with some alarm that the girl was in a terrible condition. One that he, guiltily enough, had been to busy fantasizing to notice. But he saw it now; she looked ragged, like she had been completely worn away, her once bright eyes had faded with unease, but they stared intently at the ground before them as though she hoped to bore a hole in the steel floor with her gaze.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked gently. When the girl's eyes shifted to him, she looked startled. Most likely she hadn't noticed him standing there. A faint smile flickered on her lips, but she offered a soft 'no thanks,' before returning her stare slowly to the ground. Unconsciously, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the cot, so tightly that her knuckles faded to white.

"Are you sure? It's Jasmine tea. A delicious blend, and it works wonders on the nerves." The girl sat in thoughtful silence for a moment, then returned her fleeting smile.

"Maybe...maybe I will have some, please," she said. The retired general grinned.

"I'll be right back."

A few minutes later he returned, bringing a tray of tea, which he set down on Katara's cot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he lied as he poured her tea. It probably wouldn't help the girl at all if she knew about his latest hobby.

"Katara," she said. Her voice was soft. It was a pleasant relief, really, from his nephew's flaring attitude.

"A fine name," Iroh said. "I am Iroh. I understand you are familiar with my nephew, Prince Zuko," he clarified, being slightly more obvious than was necessary in hopes of easing the girl's nerves. Katara nodded gently and sipped at her tea.

"You seem troubled," he continued. "Come, tell me, what's wrong?" Katara shook her head slightly, as though trying to brush off her uncertainty. "Surely it couldn't be so awful," he insisted. That did it.

"It is!" the girl cried, her voice a little higher than it had been before. "It's terrible! It's..." she lowered her head. "Sorry..."

"There is no need for apology," Iroh said. "Perhaps you could explain to me the trouble. I may be able to help."

"Thanks. That's sweet of you, really. But I don't think there's anything you can do."

"Try me," he said. Katara looked away.

"It's Aang," she said softly. "The Avatar. He's...he's hurt. I think he may be..." she shuddered, spilling some tea onto her lap, though she didn't seem to notice. "...I don't...I don't want him to die..." she whispered, more to herself than to the old man. Iroh put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"He won't, Katara," he said soothingly. "My nephew will make sure of it." The girl nodded quickly, trying too hard not to let her tears escape.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" the retired general offered, though not only to sake his own curiosity. Katara couldn't be left to herself. Not like this. She had to remain busy, had to stay occupied. Iroh wasn't sure if worry was the only thing that had made her so ill, but if allowed to fester, it would only make her condition worse.

* * *

Katara nodded faintly. That memory was hard enough to think about, and telling this man would be painful at best, but she needed to talk about it. She just couldn't stay by herself. 

"It...It happened earlier this morning..." she began shakily."Aang was going out flying, with his glider...he does that sometimes..." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "He was...trying to scout out the island...and having fun with it. He always makes a game out of things like that...And then...I don't know how it happened-- maybe I didn't fix it right the last time...but his glider tore. Sokka and I saw it from the ground. He...he tried to land, but he couldn't. He just...fell. He was at the edge of a hill, and it was covered in rocks and..." she shuddered. "He landed hard...there was blood...everywhere...and...and he didn't wake up." she looked up now, still fighting back tears. "Sokka's with him now. He's better with blood and and taking care of injuries...so I went to get help." She took another sip of tea and bowed her head. "I don't want Aang to die..."

* * *

Prince Zuko dismounted his rhino when he reached the place Katara had told him about. His mount shook its horned head nervously, trying to back away from the scene. Had the situation been less urgent, he would have allowed it. Before him was a rocky slope, which was had been showered with fresh blood. 

_No wonder Katara was so upset, _he thought, trying to keep his own stomach under control. At the base of the slope were two figures, one ominously still and covered in blankets and makeshift bandages, the other kneeling over him, trying miserably to mend his companion's wounds. The conscious one, evidently Sokka, turned suddenly, apparently aware of the dozen Fire Nation soldiers that had gathered around him.

"Get out of here, slime ball," he snarled, pulling himself to his feet and brandishing his boomerang.

"Stand aside," Prince Zuko said evenly to the boy, gesturing for the doctor to examine the Avatar.

"Not on your life!" Sokka's slow movements betrayed his exhaustion, but that didn't dampen his spirit. As the doctor approached, the boy slashed at him with his weapon.

This was not working.

"Stand aside," Prince Zuko said again. "I have no intention of fighting right now."

"That's a laugh, you dirty fire breather," Sokka growled. "I know what you're after."

"Then you also know that the Avatar is useless to me if he is dead. And I assume the same applies to you." This got the other boy's attention. "That man you just tried to decapitate is my ship's doctor. Now stand aside and let him work." Sokka didn't move.

"You're just going to try to lock him away again," he said coldly.

"Exactly. After he's recovered, of course. But at least he won't have to be buried. Now _move_." With another gesture, he commanded two of the soldiers to grab the boy. Sokka struggled, but he was too exhausted to put up a good fight, and watched helplessly as the doctor began his work.

Nearly an hour later, the doctor stood.

"There's no more I can do from here," he said. "We need to take him to the ship."

"Good. Get him on one of the rhinos!" he barked.

"What about this one?" one of the soldiers asked, nodding down to Sokka, who had started fighting again.

"Release him. We don't need him."

"Hey!" Sokka cried indignantly as he was thrown to the ground. He pulled himself to his feet and bolted after his friend, who was now secured on the back of Prince Zuko's rhino. "Hey! No! Stop!" Prince Zuko ignored him.

The return to the ship took longer than the trip out, mostly because the Avatar would not likely survive a hard ride, and the rhinos had to be slowed accordingly. Which the Avatar's friend appreciated, no doubt, because he was jogging behind them, shouting curses and threats after them whenever he had enough breath in his lungs. By Prince Zuko's order, the boy wasn't killed. This wasn't an act of mercy to Sokka, but to his sister: Katara had been traumatized enough without having to lose her brother.


	12. Convergence

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Nickelodeon's Avatar. But I don't. So until the genie comes out of this lamp, I don't own it. But that won't stop me from hoping.

AN: I am back from camp at last!I had a great time, and without further delay, here is your next chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 12: Convergence**

Like some kind of stray dog, Sokka followed the procession of Komodo rhinos up the spiny ramp and onto the Fire Navy ship. He wasn't really sure why, actually: he could do nothing to help Aang until the young boy had healed, and the doctors would take care of that matter. He considered trying to kill Prince Zuko again, but it wouldn't be easy since the beast was surrounded by his minions. In fact, the smart thing would probably have been to go back and wait for Katara to return, and then rescue Aang when they had come up with some kind of plan. But then, it was a kind of stressful situation, so he couldn't really be blamed for not choosing the best option. But still...

His reflections were violently interrupted when he heard a familiar groan. He rushed to the side of the ship and looked overboard.

"Appa?" he asked. "What in the world are you..." the color drained from his face.

Of course, he realized with horror. _Why didn't I see it? They knew that Aang was hurt. And they knew how to find us. They knew._

, he realized with horror. 

_Katara's here_. He looked up and saw Prince Zuko giving further orders to his soldiers. Furious, he sprinted forward, sending a punch at the Prince's jaw.

Which was swiftly dodged.

"Where is she, Zuko?" he demanded. "_Where are you keeping my sister_?" In a surprising burst of strength, he picked up the Prince by the collar and shook him violently. Or at least, he tried. A flameless punch to his gut robbed him of breath and forced him to drop his enemy. Prince Zuko retrieved his hand from the other boy's stomach and summoned one of the sailors.

"Take him to the girl," he said coldly, before he walked away from Sokka and disappeared behind a steel hatch. The soldier grabbed Sokka's shoulder, but Sokka pulled himself from the man's grip.

"Where is she?" he asked again, his voice dangerously low. The soldier gave him an unreadable stare before he led him silently down the hatch after the Prince. Down a ramp, around a corner, through a hallway, past nearly a dozen rooms they went, until at last Sokka saw his sister, sitting alone in one of the rooms.

"Katara!" he cried, bounding into the room. The door shut with a loud clang behind him, but he didn't care. Katara was here, and she wasn't hurt. In fact, the color had returned to her face, a definite improvement from when she had left.

"I...I'm sorry, Sokka," she said softly. Sokka shook his head and hugged his little sister.

"It's all right," he said. "You got caught. You don't have to worry about it. It's not your fault."

* * *

Those words cut into Katara like a knife. Was that what Sokka thought? That she had gotten herself captured? She felt a brush of gratitude towards Zuko for not telling him otherwise, but...

But it was a lie.

There was nothing more to it. She hadn't been captured, not by any stretch of the imagination. This wasn't her cell, it was her room. Zuko had ordered his doctor to take care of her, and Iroh had come to comfort and calm her. There was no malice in them or their actions. They couldn't be blamed for anything.

It was _her _fault.

She went to Zuko, knowing perfectly that he was her enemy.

She told Zuko where to find Aang.

She was the one who was too lazy to think of any better way, and so she had knowingly betrayed her friend, her brother, and most likely, the entire world.

Sokka didn't know any of this. He thought she was still an innocent, honest victim, caught in the clutch of circumstance. But she knew better. Everything here was her doing.

And if Sokka found out, he would hate her for it.

"Thanks," she said, trying to sound comforted. Through the steel walls of the room, the siblings heard the ship heave into motion, leaving the island behind. "Where's Aang?" she asked at last. "How is he?"

"Still alive," Sokka said grimly. "I think they took him to an infirmary or something. They said that they've got a doctor taking care of him. I think he's going to be fine, Katara. And as soon as he gets better, we're going to find a way to get out of here." Genuine relief washed over the girl upon hearing the news. At least something was going right: Aang was alive. The help had come in time.

"And what about you?" she asked. "You look terrible."

"It's nothing a nap and a bath won't cure," Sokka said with a shrug. Katara laughed, and was surprised by how real it sounded. Sokka's eyes landed on the cots that protruded from the wall, the lower covered by a blanket and a few pillows.

"Ha," he said. "I guess I get the top bunk, then?" Katara nodded. "Good." He wearily hoisted himself to the higher cot. "I'm going to sleep for a little bit, okay?" he asked.

"Okay."

"Wake me if anything happens." Katara agreed again and passed him one of the pillows and the blanket. Her brother took them appreciatively and promptly fell asleep.

Katara was guiltily relieved when she heard Sokka's snores. It wasn't that she wasn't glad to see him, or to know that he and Aang were safe. The problem was that lying to him was agonizing, but as bad as it felt, she knew that the alternative would be unbearable. She was ashamed to speak to him, afraid to tell him the truth. Completely miserable, she sat back down on her cot and pulled her knees to her chest, trying to empty her mind and ignore her screaming conscience.

Several hours later, Sokka woke up.

"I smell food," he groaned drowsily.

"They brought us something to eat," Katara told him. Actually, 'They' was none other than Iroh, who had provided her with two large fish, two cups of tea, a loaf of bread and a variety of fruit. Sokka climbed down from his cot, still tired from his earlier ventures, and studied the food suspiciously.

"Do you think it's poisoned?" he asked. Katara picked up a peach and sniffed it.

"Only one way to find out," she said, taking a bite out of it. She waited for a few moments, chewing it thoughtfully, then swallowed. "I'm pretty sure it's safe," she told him, taking another bite to reassure her brother.

Apparently satisfied by this, he began digging hungrily into the meal. Katara studied him as she chewed on her peach. He still looked tired, and his skin and clothes were flecked with blood. Aang's blood. She restrained a shudder and put down the fruit.

"Something wrong, Katara?" her brother asked, pausing for a moment from gorging himself.

"Nothing," she lied. "I just ate before you arrived, and I'm still pretty full. That's all." Sokka looked at her skeptically, but he had no reason not to believe her.

Shortly after, Sokka stood up, the majority of the meal safely within his stomach, thanks to Katara's recurring insistence that she wasn't hungry. He moved to the door and put his weight against it, jiggling the handle.

Needless to say, he was more than a little surprised when the door swung open and deposited him in a heap on the steel floor of the hallway.

"Huh," he said, brushing himself off as though nothing had happened. "It looks like they forgot to lock the door."

"I don't think they needed to lock it," Katara said. "We're on a ship somewhere in the middle of the ocean: we can't exactly walk off and expect to get anywhere."

"Then they obviously didn't see the flying bison swimming next to the ship. Though I'm not really sure how they missed him."

"I think they saw him, Sokka. They just didn't care."

"Why not? Who's going to stop us from leaving right now?" Katara looked uncomfortable.

"Nobody. That's the point. They're after Aang. For all they care, we can go now and leave him behind." Sokka stopped short.

"Oh." He fell unusually silent, his brow furrowed in thought.


	13. No Solace In The Water

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar, Zuko, Katara, or any other aspect of the show. I do, however, own and headthe Zuko Fan Mob, which is currently out to kill Ozai and Zhou. So ha.

AN: Here's to you, Chips Dip.

* * *

**Chapter 13: No Solace in the Water**

"I found him," Sokka told Katara. It had been nearly an hour since her brother had discovered their unexpected freedom, and since then, he had been exploring the ship. "He's getting better." Katara's eyes brightened.

"Really? Where is he? Can I see him?" the barrage of questions surprised her, but she looked eagerly up at Sokka, silently praying for good news.

"Yes, really," he began. "I don't think he's in danger of dying anymore. He's in the infirmary...And you were right: there are three guards standing outside the door. But we can still visit him, as long as we don't try to break him out. Not yet anyway. He's not well enough to be moved yet. But when he is..." he left the rest up to her imagination. Katara offered him a smile.

"Should we go see him now?" she asked. Sokka shook his head.

"Not right now," he said. "He was still sleeping when I found him. But until then, I found a bathroom. I think a quick wash would do both of us some good." Katara agreed, and Sokka let her have the first bath. A quarter hour later the girl had stripped off her clothes and stood before a large iron basin, nearly filled with water. From some whim, she put her hand over the lapping water and pulled it up, drawing it up, bending it...

And then, unbidden, it fell back into the basin with a weary splash. Katara blinked at it in mild confusion and tried to pull it up again. Just as before, the water rose at first, only to fall away uselessly.

_Why did I expect it to work_? she wondered vaguely. Waterbending, and most likely all the other forms of bending, if Aang was any indication, relied on controlled emotion. On focus. Neither of which she had now. All of her concentration had been eaten away by guilt and lies, leaving her hallow and tired. There was no real point of practicing for now.

Disappointed, she climbed into the tub, letting the disobedient water wash over her bruises. She scrubbed mercilessly at her grimy skin, ignoring the flashes of pain that came from being too rough with her injuries. She wanted desperately to be clean again, not to be marked by Aang's blood, which finally receded from her arms and neck where it had been hiding. But not just blood. She wanted to rid herself of shame, of grief, of the unhindered voice of her guilty conscience. But these could not be rinsed away with soap and water. She sighed in frustration and sank beneath the surface of the water, burying her head in her element.

At first there was a peace. Peace and tranquility and blessed, blessed silence.

But too soon she heard the blood beat in her ears, the gruesome reminder that she was still alive. Words formed within her mind, repeating faithfully to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

_What have. You done. What have. You done_.

Her chest began to hurt, but she stayed beneath the water, too frightened of what would be waiting for her beyond its protective barrier. Her pulse quickened from fear and want of oxygen. And as dutifully as before, those cursed words accompanied the sound:

_What have you done? What have you done? Whathaveyoudonewhathaveyoudonewhathaveyoudone!_

She broke through the surface with a gasp, drinking in the precious air, replenishing her offended lungs. The water, which had seemed so warm a moment before, had become bitterly cold, and she scrambled from the tub, drying herself with a cloth that had been left for the bath's occupants. With brutal haste she pulled on her old clothes, having nothing else to change into, and pulled open the door.

And there she stopped.

This couldn't work.

She couldn't go running back to her room like this, upset and out of breath as though she was being chased by demons. It would worry Sokka. And he would ask her what was wrong, and rush to her defense, and do everything in his power to comfort her. And she would have to tell him even more lies. No.

No.

She leaned heavily against the open bathroom door, trying to sooth herself. She needed to calm down.

As she stood there, Zuko exited his room. Immediately, his eyes fell on Katara; her expression was pained, her posture implying utter exhaustion, her hair dripping water all over her dirt-smeared robes.

"Katara?" he asked, startling her from her meditation. She looked terrible, and Zuko had to battle the urge to run to her side. "Are you not feeling well?" he asked her instead. Katara smiled gently at his concern.

"No," she said. "I'm not sick or anything...I finished taking a bath, though." That explained her wet hair.

"Ah...good," Zuko said. "I'll have a change of clothes prepared for you...and your brother," he added reluctantly. Katara smiled in her gentle way.

"Thank you, Zuko," she said. "And...I wanted to thank you for...for before. For not telling Sokka about...what happened between you and me. And...for saving Aang. He would be dead now if it wasn't for you, Zuko. Thank you."

"It's all right," the Prince said gently, helping her up. Supporting her, he guided her back to her room, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

"I don't think I should go any further," he warned teasingly. "Your brother still wants my head, and I don't intend to make it easy for him." The joke summoned a soft laugh from Katara and Zuko squeezed her hand once, reassuring her of his presence, before walking away, to the deck of the ship.

Katara was alone again, but not as frantic or frightened as she had been before. Making sure to plaster a smile onto her face, she opened the iron door of her room.

"I'm finished," she announced to her brother, who grinned at her and jumped from his seat on the upper bunk. Evidently he had been sharpening his bladed boomerang.

_Zuko was right not to let him see us_, Katara thought with a sliver of amusement.

"That's great," Sokka said. "I'll be right back. And then we can go check up on Aang, okay?" Katara smiled and nodded, releasing her brother to bathe.


	14. Broken Inside

Disclaimer: If I owned Avatar, Ozai would be long since dead (or fodder for the Zuko Fan Mob), Zuko and Katara would long since be a couple, Aang would discover that Gyatso was still alive or be frequently visited by his spirit, Zuko would be teaching Aang Firebending by now, and we wouldn't have to wait until next year for the next season.

As you can see, I don't own it. And that makes me sad.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Broken Inside**

Sokka had not exaggerated. In fact, a fourth guard had been summoned to the front of the infirmary, most likely to prevent whatever plans Sokka could conceive. Katara rushed past the soldiers, forgetting them, her guilt, her exhaustion, everything, in her search for her wounded friend. It was short lived: only three beds occupied the room, and only one of these held a patient. Aang stared up at her, his young face brightening at the sight of his friend, though he couldn't erase the fear that penetrated his eyes. Katara dove to his bedside. She absorbed the sight of her friend, wrapped in blood soaked bandages, one arm and leg splinted against vicious breaks.

"Aang!" she choked, careful not to shout and cause him further pain. "Aang, you're alive! You're awake. I was so afraid..." Aang put what he meant to be a comforting hand on her shoulder. But Katara saw too clearly the effort he needed to move the unbroken limb, to keeping it from shaking or falling short of its target.

"I'm okay, Katara," Aang said gently. "I'm sorry I made you worry...I won't do it again. I Promise." Katara felt hot tears well in her eyes, but blinked them away.

_He _was apologizing to _her_? _He _was trying to soothe _her_? Who had ever deserved an apology, who had ever needed help more than he did now? She had thrown him to the wolves, and pure, sweet Aang was still trying to comfort her!

She forced a soft smile onto her lips and gently took his hand, careful to avoid the numerous cuts and bruises that flecked his skin.

"It isn't your fault, Aang," she whispered. "You don't need to be sorry. Just...just get better, okay? That's all that matters right now." Aang nodded, but uncertainty crossed his expression.

"I got caught, huh?" he asked, keeping his voice light, like he was talking about walking into a tree branch. "I'm sorry," he said again. Katara looked up to keep her tears at bay.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. _It's not_. And as soon as you're better, Sokka and I are going to get you out of here." Sidelong glances from the guards fell uselessly on her turned back. "I'll find a way. Everything's going to be okay, Aang. You're going to be okay."

The lie was expertly fashioned, crafted to deceive herself as well as her friend, but it failed to change the bitter reality. Waves of agonizing guilt still washed over Katara as she looked into his innocent, faithful eyes, absolutely believing every word that she told him. She found herself looking instead at his lifeless mattress in a miserable attempt at avoiding his gaze.

"I'll get you out of here,"she lied again, loathing herself for being unable to forge those lies into the truth.

"We both will," Sokka corrected from above his sister. Katara turned, startled to see him. She had nearly forgotten that her brother had accompanied her to the infirmary. That surprise and her guilt and a dozen other things swirled in her head, dulling the words that came from her brother's mouth. She recognized that Sokka was reassuring Aang, telling him that everything would be all right, telling him what he thought had happened.

Katara didn't try to correct him.

Nearly and hour passed before Aang fell asleep once more. Sokka left, realizing that there was no more that he could do for his friend, and went instead to scout the rest of the ship and perhaps make plans for escape. Despite Sokka's arguments, Katara insisted that she stay with Aang, and though her brother didn't understand her logic, he had too much faith in her to allow for disbelief.

The doctor and guards observed Katara with a mixture of fascination and poorly disguised discretions. Shortly after her brother left, the Avatar began to develop a fever, most likely a late result of his injuries and previously unfavorable conditions. The girl worked with fierce determination to bring down the fever; she treated him according to her own knowledge, though she allowed the doctor to make suggestions and accepted his help when he offered it.

But she never asked for help.

When the boy was disturbed by fever dreams, she took his hands and spoke softly to him, easing him back into peaceful slumber. When he woke, she was the first thing he laid eyes on, and she did everything in his power to make him comfortable and ease his pain.

As the hours wore on, her brother came back several times, bringing both his sister and the Avatar food that he had swiped from the galley. Though the Avatar ate hungrily, the girl refused most of what was offered, assuring the boys that she wasn't hungry. Only after her brother's mulish insistence did she accept an apple, though she couldn't force any more than that down her throat. Further arguments had to be made, these with the unexpected support of the doctor and guards, to convince Katara to leave the room entirely, if only long enough for the girl to get some sleep.

Katara did not rest easily that night. Hellish dreams boiled in her skull, of death, pain, betrayal, anger, loneliness. And words, flying through her mind like plagues of insects: _you did this to him, you betrayed him, you trapped him, he'll be a prisoner for life and it's all your fault_.

She sat up in her cot, a cold sweat soaking her clothes and chilling her skin. Sokka snored, unaware, in the higher cot. Without a word or thought, she stood and walked from the room, down the hallway. She passed closed door after closed door, all of them leering at her, gloating that there was no way to escape her prison. The door to the infirmary was shut, but a light shone into the otherwise empty hallway through the crack under the door, interrupted for the placement of four sets of feet. The guards had not left their posts.

She continued around the corner and up a ramp, the same way that Zuko and Iroh had led her during the day.Within moments she was standing on the deck, staring out into the familiar sea. A cold, unforgiving moon floated overhead, mercilessly observing her misery. She returned its stare with her own empty gaze, and walked forward until she felt the cold iron bars of the ship's railing press against her. Nobody else stood on the deck. Nobody could see her. She offered the moon a grim smile and bent her torso over the edge.

For several minutes, she was violently sick.

Her stomach was nearly empty, and the acidic bile burned at her throat, but she couldn't stop. She had done nothing to summon the illness, she surely wasn't running a fever. Nothing had been wrong with the food she had eaten, but she continued to vomit until there was nothing left in her stomach, and everything she had and hadn't eaten was given to the more deserving ocean.

There was nobody to see her. Nobody to wonder at the tears that now flowed down her cheeks in searing streams, flushing her face, swelling her eyes. Nobody to question her, to be exposed to her guilt, her shame, her anger, her grief. There was nobody to let down. Nobody to hate her.

"What have I done?" she whispered into the empty night.

_Traitor_.

"What have I done?" she sobbed again, her knees collapsing beneath her, and she fell gracelessly in a heap on the cold iron deck.

_Liar_.

Finally, in the security of loneliness, she was free to cry. Finally she didn't have to pretend to be strong or brave or confident or sure or innocent. Finally she could fall and not have to get up until morning. As long as she got back to her room by the time Sokka woke up, the illusion could be maintained. And that wouldn't be hard. Her brother liked to sleep in. Aang wouldn't be able to move for days at least. The deception could exist as long as she needed it to. Nobody would find out.

_Charlatan_.

She was deceiving them. She was betraying them, had betrayed them. But she couldn't let them see her cry. She had to...

She had to figure out what she was going to do.

Footsteps echoed through the open hatch door; somebody was coming. Katara stilled her shaking body and pulled herself to her feet and scrambled away from the door, to the safety of the shadows. The moon finally seemed to have pity on her, and hid its face behind a veil of clouds and hiding her from careless eyes. She didn't bother wiping away her tears-- time would dispel the evidence of her grief. A lonely figure, shrouded in darkness, walked onto the deck. She made no attempt to identify it, but darted silently into the black hallway behind it and back to her room. She was done with tears for the night.

Zuko saw a dark shape dash into the hatch an instant after he left it. As it passed, he caught a glimpse of Katara's face, but she didn't look back. He made no attempt to stop her. If she felt she needed to hide from him, then...he wouldn't force her to do otherwise.

Instead he turned his mind to the task at hand. He had heard someone come up here. That much had been confirmed. It was Katara. Problem solved. But what had she been doing on the deck in the first place? Getting fresh air? Then why did she run from him the way she had? It made no sense.

But then, very little did when she was involved.

He scanned the deck as the moon shifted from the cover of clouds, and a glimmer caught his eyes. He walked carefully to the far end of the deck, close to the railing. Some kind of liquid sprinkled the iron floor, shining in the moonlight. The liquid was odorless, colorless, like ordinary water, but the deck stood too high above the reach of the tranquil waves to be sea spray. He dipped two fingers in some of the liquid and brought them to his mouth.

He tasted salt. But it was different from the ocean's brine. It took him a moment to recognize it, and then...

Tears. At his feet were hundreds of fallen tears. And all of them belonged to Katara. But why? He saw no reason for her to be unhappy. Wasn't her friend still alive? Hadn't he refrained from killing her brother? She was kept as his guest, given food and medicine and anything she could need if she would only ask for it, she was free to leave...

_Oh_.

Katara was his guest. As was her brother. But not the Avatar. Because he was, though injured, still the Avatar. And even though he was currently the patient of Zuko's doctors, in time he would heal, and then he would become a prisoner. Because Zuko needed him. The Avatar was his only way home. His only way back to his father. He had searched for two long years, and finally, he had what he needed. All he had ever needed. All he wanted.

Katara would learn to accept fate. She would come to understand, and there would be no more tears.


	15. Commination of the Guardian

Discaimer: Oh I wish I owned Avatar. Hey! Would the Zuko Fan Mob and any other Non-Mob-Members be willing to come with me to take over Nickelodeon? Then we could force them to air Avatar every night, instead of just weekends! And I wouldn't have to post these disclaimers anymore!

* * *

**Chapter 15: Commination of the Guardian**

Days passed. Sokka searched the ship, developed plans of escape, practiced fighting, ate. Katara tended to Aang and washed her and Sokka and Aang's clothes, often forgetting to eat unless reminded. She slept little and cried often, though she never let anybody see her struggle. She pretended to be strong and brave, and listened to her brother's plans, pointing out the numerous deadly flaws that were woven into them. She didn't say much to him otherwise, feeling too guilty and dirty to face him with anything other than strict business. Sokka was clearly worried about her, but he decided that her unnatural silence was out of concern for their friend. Surely, she would get better when he did.

As Aang began to recover, he discovered that Momo had somehow stowed away on the ship, and which saved the young boy from the terrible boredom of the infirmary, much to the alarm of the doctor. Katara told Aang stories and riddles, and gently spoke to him when he craved more conversation than his faithful lemur could provide. After a week, Aang's bruises and cuts had all but faded and much of his strength had returned. He could walk, though badly, and he needed crutches and Katara's help to get more than a few inches. But it was a definite improvement.

Zuko watched over Katara from a distance, mainly because her brother was still after his blood, but also because he knew he could do nothing to help her. He cursed himself often for knowing nothing of comfort, but also for knowing that he wasn't willing to give up the one thing that would make her happy. Seeing her upset pained him for reasons that he couldn't understand.

Six days after Katara first arrived on board the ship, a storm fell upon them, flinging the iron vessel violently across the sea. The three 'guests' remained below the deck, according to Zuko's orders. They stayed in the infirmary, Sokka and Aang talking and joking about random little things, comforted despite the vicious rocking of the ship. Katara remained silent. Her brother and friend tried to get her to speak, but she only brushed them off, mumbling something about seasickness. After several of her protests, they finally gave in and left her alone until the storm died.

When peace was finally restored, Katara ducked out of the infirmary, insisting that she was going to lie down.

Zuko was waiting for her.

* * *

The Prince was soaking wet from helping the sailors on the deck, but he looked otherwise unharmed by the experience. He now leaned against the door frame outside Katara's room, studying her carefully, sparing a single glance toward the infirmary to check if Sokka was following her. Katara looked slightly surprised. She hadn't really spoken to him for several days, and she had not been alone with him like this since her first day on the ship. Now the proximity felt more than a little awkward. 

"Hello," she said softly. Zuko nodded to her, then straightened.

"You don't look well," he observed. Katara shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"Sokka thought so, too," she admitted. "I was just going to..."

"You've been like this since you arrived."

"...Seasick," Katara muttered, ducking past him into the room. Zuko followed her through the door.

"You're a Waterbender. Being on the sea is probably all that's keeping you as healthy as you are." Katara once again wondered vaguely if he could read her mind.

"I'm fine," she said lamely, turning toward the bed.

"You don't have to lie to me, Katara," Zuko said, taking her shoulders and pulling him around to face her. It took an effort not to let her go immediately, because she looked as though she had been struck. His grip had been firm, though not tight; his motion had not been rough. But had he hurt her somehow? Katara's eyes focused uncomfortably on the ground.

"I...I don't..." she was clearly trying to think of something, to make some excuse. But Zuko gave her no chance. He pulled her suddenly close, tight, trapping her in an embrace. She pushed helplessly against his chest, but he didn't let her go. He heard her swallow several times, felt her stop struggling, and finally she collapsed into his chest, hugging him for dear life, trying to blink back the tears that were fighting to escape her eyes.

Zuko was slightly panicked to see her begin to cry, but he didn't let go. He moved one hand gently across her back in what he prayed was a soothing motion, and searched his mind for something to say.

"I'm sorry," Katara whispered pathetically, laying her forehead on his shoulder.

"Don't be," he said quietly, and he allowed her to sob wordlessly into his shoulder. In time her breathing steadied, her tears stopped. Her knees swayed, and he held her tighter to keep her from falling to the ground. He guided her gently to her cot, easing her into the bed before he covered her with a blanket.

"Sleep now, Katara," he whispered into her ear, and then kissed her forehead. He looked back once before walking from her room, and was satisfied to see that she had found refuge in sleep.

* * *

Sokka left the infirmary. Katara had been acting strangely, and though he'd said he wouldn't bother her, she had him worried. He looked up from his reflections and his heart stopped in his chest. 

Prince Zuko, the viper king of snakes, was leaving Katara's room.

Thoughts racing in his mind, Sokka raced into the room. Katara was sleeping there. She looked unhurt, but... Sokka crept closer and drew back the blanket that covered his sister. Her clothes were darkened by water. Her entire front had been soaked. And trails of irritated skin betrayed the paths of tears. Sokka replaced the blanket and leaned heavily on his own bed, trying to control his violently shaking hands.

Zuko had just left the room.

He had been dripping wet.

_What did that monster do to Katara?_

Confident, cheerful Katara, who hadn't cried since she was eight years old. Who was never discouraged, who always looked at the bright side of every situation. What had that filthy piece of slime done to bring her such grief?

Horrible visions filled his mind, and guilt, and bloodthirsty, ravenous fury.

_While I was back there, joking like an idiot... that fatherless murderer was hurting Katara... she needed me, and I wasn't here for her... She needed me..._

_He'll pay for what he did. He'll pay._

He raced out of the room, his vision receded to a thirsty red. He had been wandering uselessly on this stupid ship for almost a week. He knew exactly where that recreant would be hiding.

"Zuko!" he snarled, bursting into the practice room. Surely enough, the Prince looked up, slightly startled, his armor abandoned in the corner of the room, heavy with water.

"What did you do?" he shouted, adding a few choice oaths. "_What did you do to Katara_!" He raised his bladed boomerang and lunged at the Prince with unprecedented speed, and his blow just barely missed its target. Zuko regained his footing after dodging out of Sokka's way, his own face now distorted with anger.

"What are you accusing me of?" he hissed, raising his fists to strike.

"You know what you did, you monster!" Sokka shouted, hurling his weapon at the Prince. The boomerang. Zuko evaded the blade, but he didn't expect the fist that struck his face immediately after. A second fist collided with his gut, forcing the air from his lungs and bringing him to the ground. A barrage of furious blows pelted him, grinding him against the iron floor. Zuko raised an arm to protect himself, and with the other issued a fierce flame. Sokka was deterred for an instant, his instincts keeping him away from the deadly fire, and Zuko rolled to his feet.

_Don't kill him_, Zuko told himself. _Don't kill him. Don't kill him. It'll only hurt Katara if he dies. Don't kill. Don't._

"I didn't do anything," he spat. Blood trickled from a split lip. The bitter taste did nothing to help his mood. Sokka was on him again before he finished the sentence.

"_LIAR_!" Sokka delivered another flurry of punches and kicks, his boomerang forgotten. But Zuko was now prepared for his opponent: he blocked the blows he could, delivered a few of his own. He had no more reservation about harming Sokka. Not so long as the boy didn't die.

They were completely tangled now, shouting curses and insults and battle cries and inflicting as much damage as possible, not pausing to breathe or flinch.

"What did you do to her? She won't even talk to me anymore! _What did you do_!" Sokka's reckless cries echoed across the metal walls, fueling his anger. He was driven by rage and vengeance, and it multiplied his strength and speed tenfold. But he couldn't match Zuko's feline grace and skill, and he was slowly beaten back. Countless punches and kicks drove him to the floor, and every time he lost his feet, it took him an instant longer to regain them. Exhaustion slowly claimed him, tearing at his lungs and dragging at his muscles, but he had no intention of stopping. He had to avenge his sister. He had to kill his monster opponent, her tormentor. He had to rid her of him forever.

A brutal kick to the face sent him across the room. He rolled as he landed, until he hit a wall. He tried to rush to his feet again and continue the fight, but a heavy foot landed on his chest, emptying his lungs of air. He clawed at the leg that pinned him to the ground, but his opponent didn't retreat. Nor did he attack.

"What did you do?" he hissed with the ragged remnant of his breath. He noted without satisfaction that Zuko was breathing hard, that his clothes were torn in several places, that blood and bruises now painted his skin. The Prince looked coldly down at him.

"I did nothing," he said again, his voice lethally low. "Are you so sure that it's your sister who won't speak? Or is it you who won't listen?" He pressed his foot down again, disabling Sokka for another moment while the young warrior gasped for breath. When Sokka regained himself, the room was empty.

Zuko had escaped.

* * *

Zuko locked the door behind him as soon as he slipped inside his bedroom. It had been so tempting to rid himself of that wretch, once and for all. But no. He didn't want to do that to Katara. He couldn't do that to her. Now his chief concern was with survival. 

"Prince Zuko! I didn't think the storm would do you so much harm!" his uncle cried from behind him. Zuko grimaced and turned to face the old man.

"This was the work of no storm," he said bitterly, pulling off the shredded, bloodstained shirt to examine the extent of his injuries.

"He didn't escape, did he?" his uncle asked, fishing a washcloth from one of the carved drawers in the room.

"The Avatar was in no condition to do _this_ to me," Zuko spat, but he allowed his uncle to help clean his wounds. "It was that stupid, vermin, gutter trash boy." He sucked in air as his uncle disturbed a particularly violent bruise.

"The girl's brother?" Uncle Iroh asked in surprise. "Since when could he do all of this?" Zuko's face hardened in contempt.

"Since he thought I raped his sister," he muttered. His uncle stopped and shot him a questioning glance.

"I _didn't_!" he snarled. "I just spoke to her! I barely even touched her, and that _idiot_ tried to kill me for it!"

"Oh," Uncle Iroh said. His tone suggested that he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or sympathetic. He studied his nephew's chest; it looked oddly lopsided, and most likely at least one rib was broken. "I'll fetch the doctor, shall I?" he said. Zuko nodded curtly and watched his uncle leave the room, locking the door behind him.

* * *

Sokka limped to the infirmary, exhausted and defeated. Aang apparently didn't appreciate seeing his friend in his condition. 

"Sokka?" he cried. "What happened to you? Hey!" he summoned the doctor, who had been talking idly to two of the guards. "Sokka needs help."

"I'm fine, Aang," Sokka said between deep breaths. But he didn't resist the doctor as he was helped to one of the beds. His wounds were examined and wrapped, but he would stay no longer in the room than absolutely necessary.

"I'll come back later with Katara," he explained as an old man walked in and spoke briefly to the doctor. Both of the men then hurried from the infirmary, pausing only to grab bandages and a few other supplies. Sokka didn't pay them any mind. He wouldn't leave Katara alone again. If he couldn't kill Zuko now, he could at least protect Katara from him.

* * *

AN: Since it's going to get a little long if I try to answer every review individually, I'm going to start this FAQ page. So let's begin, shall we?

**I don't like Katara. She doesn't do enough, and she only reacts to situations.**

I'm sorry! I swear on my goldfish's grave that I didn't mean to make her such a static character.What I didn't want was herto turn intoXena and fix everything without any effort or pain. Because that would makeher one of mytypicalOC's, and I really don't likethem.She will get better in time, though. Right now the problem is that she is confused and worn out from lying to the two people that she has always been honest with. And the guilt of what she's doing to her makeshift family is completely tearing her apart. But I don't intend to continue the rest of the story in such a depressing manner. Things will look up! Really.

**You said this was a romance! There's barely any fluff.**

Again, I'm very sorry. I'm not great with romance, and between her being so preoccupied and Sokka's little desire to cut Zuko into a thousand pieces, things are not looking great for a date right now. But the romance will develop. And I've given away a lot in this answer, so be patient.

**Why can't Katara just tell Sokka and Aang the truth?**

Before she got Aang caught, that might have been an option. But they've always respected her, and she's afraid of losing that respect. If the whole 'Aang-nearly-died-so-she-turned-him-over-to-his-enemy' thing hadn't happened, she might have just told them. But now, if she does inform them of her little plea, it would look too much like she was just trying to impress her boyfriend. Or at least, that's how she sees it.

**I really liked 'The Blue Spirit'.**

Yes. I did, too. Quite a wonderful episode, ne? Loved it to death. And now we won't get any new episodes until next year! But at least we have our dear Blue Spirit to hold on to.

**Earlier you mentioned that they were all taking a bath together...?**

Sorry, **Bunny Of Death**. Misunderstanding. I meant that usually Katara bathed at night while the boys were sleeping. But at the time where I mentioned that, she bathed right before or after they did. That way they would be awake to help her if she needed them. Forgive the vagueness, please!

**Are you going to try writing a novel?**

...Actually, I'm working on one right now. Seriously.

**Is Chapter 9 the end?**

A bit redundant now, but yes.And no.Originally, I wrote it to be the end. But then I decided to continue, and I figured we'd have a bit of a fiasco if I made a seperate sequel. So that is officially the end of Volume 1. We're in the middle of Volume 2. I intend to go into Volume 3, and then I'll probably end it. But then...But expect a fewmore chapters before you freak out about the end of the story.

**Thank you for keeping this chaste, and for not swearing and stuff.**

You're welcome. I've actually gotten a bunch of reviews like this. I'm really against profanity and sex scenes, so I'm not about to write any. If I do end up using an offensive word, keep in mind that I live in a rather small town, and lead a sheltered life, and most likely don't realize that it's anything more than a minor insult. I've done that before. So just tell me and I'll fix it. Thank you for all your help and reviews!


	16. I'm Still Standing

Disclaimer: I'm still organizing my evil master plan to take over Nickelodeon. So until I set it into motion (I'll need more volunteers!) I'll have to be satisfied with writing fanfics.

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* * *

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**Chapter 16: I'm Still Standing**

Katara slept for several hours without interruption, regaining the sleep she had lost in the infirmary. Her rest was peaceful and dreamless, and she woke feeling considerably refreshed. She stretched and yawned, sparing a glance at her brother.

And she stifled a cry.

The black tunic Zuko had given him was draped carelessly over nearly a dozen bandages and countless ugly bruises. His face sported two black eyes and a fierce welt flared across one cheek. He seemed to have nodded off while sitting in rapt attention, and even in sleep he sat up, his head turned towards the door. His boomerang was ready in his limp hand.

It didn't take much effort to realize what had happened: Sokka and Zuko had fought again. That much was no surprise-- every time the two had laid eyes on one another, they had exchanged freezing glares and occasional threats when they thought she couldn't hear. But...

A new fear entered her mind.

Sokka was still alive, even if he was hurt. The steady rise and fall of his chest testified to that. But what about Zuko? It wasn't like Sokka to leave a fight unfinished, and he didn't consider any argument settled until he won. And the last time he and Zuko had fought, they had nearly killed each other.

The blood drained from Katara's face. As silently as a doe, she crept from the room, carefully shutting the door behind her. An instant she was at the door next to her own, Zuko and Iroh's room, and gingerly, she knocked at the iron door. Her heart filling with dreadful foreboding.

* * *

Zuko secured steel bracers over his wrists before he opened the door, in case Sokka had decided to come back for another fight.

"Zuko! You're alive!" The figure at the door was, thank the stars and the gods, Katara. Her face was flooded with relief and concern as he opened the door wider, casting light onto his injuries. The ache of his bruises and sting of his cut lip dissipated in that moment. She had been worried about him! That alone seemed to make every blow worth the pain.

"I am," he said, not sure of how else to respond.

"I'm so sorry," Katara said softly. "I didn't think Sokka would try to fight you again... were you hurt badly?"

_If I say yes, will you stay with me? Like you do with the Avatar?_ Zuko wondered silently. He would enjoy that. Very much. But his ego wouldn't allow for it.

"No, I'm fine," he said, omitting the fact that one of his ribs had been broken. Frankly, though, he enjoyed the attention Katara was giving him. He could very well get used to something like this.

"No," she said, her voice sad, though she sounded touched by his noble act. "You're hurt. I'm sorry it happened. I'll...I'll try talking to Sokka. I'll..."

_Not the best idea_, Zuko thought grimly. If Katara came forward now, her brother would think that she was being threatened or seduced or some other sick nonsense.

"It's all right," he interrupted. "He probably won't try again for a while. And sooner or later, he'll just give up all together." Katara's face turned to the floor.

"No, he won't," she said quietly. "He'll come back again and again until one of you dies." It sounded like she was the one who had died. Her voice was hollow and mournful. Her expression was one of pure pain.

"Why?" Zuko asked.

"Because he promised. We both did. That we'd take care of Aang, and keep him safe, and not ever, ever let him get caught..." She swallowed. "And Sokka won't ever give up until Aang is free again. I can't either, Zuko. I'm sorry. I know what it means to you, but...I can't abandon him like this. I just can't."

_But you can abandon me?_ Katara's words were slowly cutting through him. The pain of the earlier struggle returned, no longer warded off by her comfort. He felt his temper flare in the back of his mind.

"Then what do you want me to do?" he managed to say, trying to keep his mind clear.

"Let him go," Katara begged. "Please. Just let Aang go..."

"Do you have any idea what you're asking?" His voice was low.

"Zuko, please..."

"I'd live my entire life in exile. I'd lose my throne forever. _I'd never see my father again_!" Katara flinched. "Do you have any idea what that's like?" he demanded. "Could you ever understand what that means? To live alone? Forsaken? Do you?" It took every fiber of his being to keep his voice below the level of a shout. "No," he continued bitterly. "I won't just let the Avatar go. Not just like that. Unless you were here, unless you had any idea how it feels--" He cut off suddenly. He hadn't meant that. It hadn't come out right. Katara's eyes widened, and she dared a bold glance at him.

"If...If I did..." Katara said quietly. "You would let him go?"

_No, no, NO! I didn't mean that! I didn't! I just misspoke, don't you get it?_

Since when had Zuko had any weakness?

Since he took a chance and kissed Katara.

_She doesn't mean it. She's too obsessed with her brother and the Avatar. She won't leave them._

"Perhaps."

"Would you stop chasing him?" That hopeful, shining expression on her face... Zuko looked away.

_Curse her..._

"Yes. Until," he caught himself. "Until you left. Then the hunt is back on."

_She can't last. She needs them too much. She'll stay for only a few days. Then I'll capture the Avatar. And she won't feel guilty._

_And she'll be with me until then._

It was a perfect plan. Katara would never accept.

"I'll do it," she said breathlessly. She looked winded. Pained. But the deadness had left her eyes. There was life in her again, and she was steadily gaining strength in her resolution. Zuko was determined to stop her.

"You'd be sharing in my exile," he reminded her. "You wouldn't see your brother or your friend again until you left."

Katara swallowed. "I know. But I'll do it."

_This is not what I expected_.

"This ship has no allies," he said. "There would be no safe place to harbor. You would have to move every few days."

"I'm used to that."

"You would never be able to go back to the South Pole."

"I can deal with that."

"You don't want to do this, Katara." She had locked her sapphire eyes on his.

"I know I don't. But that isn't going to stop me. Will you let him leave?"

Zuko turned away from her.

* * *

Katara sat back, studying her brother's face for any signs, but his expression was still locked. He was trying to understand. It was just too much for him to handle at once. Finally he spoke.

"Huh. So he was telling the truth," he said at last. His tone was unreadable. But it didn't sound angry. Or hateful. That, at least, was a blessing.

"Yes. He was just trying to make sure I was okay. I don't think he realized what it would have looked the way it did." Katara had explained this nearly a dozen times in the last four hours, and it seemed that it was finally beginning to sink into her brother's understanding. And it didn't hurt to be sure.

"So he never...hurt you? He never...touched you, did he?"

"He hugged me a few times. And he kissed me. But that's all he did. I swear. He never hit me or anything."

"And...what he said that night?"

"He was lying. He...he was trying to protect me. He didn't think you would understand. And...I guess I didn't either..."

"So he lied to bail you out? And then he lost on purpose!" An irritated tone edged this last outcry.

"Yes," Katara said, not sure what was wrong.

"Man! And here I thought I'd beaten him to a pulp on my own..." Katara laughed gently. Her brother was still talking to her. She wasn't sure if he had forgiven her. But he was still speaking. That was a good sign.

She had given him a word for word recap of every conversation she had ever shared with Zuko, save for her very last one, summarized (as embarrassing as it was) every move they had made within ten yards of each other since they had met. Including the kisses. She had explained, though in vastly less detail, her own torment on board the ship.

That part had made him angry.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he had cried. "I'm your brother, Katara! I wouldn't just pick up and leave you behind like that! I wouldn't have let you go through all of that if I knew! You should have said something. I'm here for you. You know that, don't you? We're a team. We've always been a team." Katara flashed him a sad smile.

"I know," she said. "I was stupid. I'm sorry, I just... I don't know what I thought. I was just confused and everything was happening at once and...I don't know." She took a deep breath. "But it's over now."

Sokka nodded.

"Thank goodness for that!"

"Yeah. Thank goodness." Sokka's perception had improved in the last four hours.

"What's wrong, Katara?" he asked.

"I got Aang out of here. You're going to the North Pole."

"You mean 'we.' All three of us are going there, remember?" Katara smiled. Her brother could be so stubborn sometimes. She would miss him.

"No...I wish I could, but I'm not coming."

"What? Why not? It's not Zuko, is it? He isn't making you stay, is he?" Sokka had always been so protective of her. He was great like that.

"No. He's not making me. We...we made a deal. He's letting Aang go. And you're going with him. But I have to stay here."

"No! Katara--"

"It's the only way, Sokka."

"No, it's not! We can come up with something else. We can find a better way!"

"There is no better way. I looked, Sokka. I tried. But...this is our chance. You and I, we promised we'd take care of Aang--"

"But who's going to take care of _you_?" Sokka cried helplessly. "Who's going to make sure you're okay? Don't tell me to trust Zuko with you. Don't ask me to just stand by and leave you behind."

"You've got to, Sokka. Please. He'll stop coming after you. You can take Aang to the North Pole and have him master Waterbending. And then make sure he learns Earthbending and Firebending and..."

"I can't do that, Katara. Not without you. I can't just abandon you."

"You can't just abandon the world, Sokka. Everyone is counting on you, Sokka. You have to make sure Aang can stop this war. You have to. I'm counting on you, Sokka. Please."

Sokka's shoulders sagged in defeat, but he leaned forward and hugged his sister.

"Am I allowed to write you letters?" he asked.

"Sure. But you're not allowed to send them to me." Her brother laughed heavily at the meager joke.

"Okay. Then I'll write you every day. And when we've ended this stupid war, we'll come back and rescue you, and you'll get to read every one of them. Okay?" Katara laughed. Tears were falling from her eyes, but she laughed like a child.

"Okay. Okay." And the two siblings laughed for a long time. They laughed like they hadn't for so long, and they hugged each other, and they said their goodbyes.

* * *

The escape happened three days later.

Zuko called the guards away to do some random task. He told the doctor that one of his injuries, his broken rib, was hurting him and demanded to have it examined.

While the room was otherwise empty, Katara scooped up Aang and Sokka grabbed all of their things and the thee of them snuck to the deck of the ship, where Appa was waiting for them. Where he had been waiting for them, Katara realized with some amusement, for nearly two weeks. Sokka settled the sparse luggage on Appa's saddle while Katara helped Aang to mount his Spirit Guide.

"It's good to see you again, boy," he laughed, patting at the bison's shaggy coat. Appa groaned in agreement, and Katara laughed. She had been laughing a lot, lately. But it felt so much better than crying.

"Yeah. He's missed you, Aang," she said. Aang beamed at her, and she stilled for a moment. This is how she wanted to remember him forever. Laughing, smiling, happy. She smiled back at him.

And then she stepped off the bison's back, onto the railing.

"Did we forget something?" Aang asked. He hadn't been told of Katara's deal with Zuko. He didn't know about what would become of his best friend. Katara shook her head and signaled to her brother. She saw Sokka go rigid, then finally give the command, 'yip yip'. Appa began to move.

"Hey, Sokka, wait up! Katara got off. Sokka! Can't you hear me? Katara's still on the ship!" Sokka said nothing. Aang's eyes went suddenly wide and panicked. "Appa! Turn around, we need to get Katara! We can't leave her behind, Appa!" the bison groaned, but did not change course. Aang stared helplessly at Momo for a moment, then grabbed his glider.

"Katara!" he shouted after her, leaping into the wind.

He fell uselessly back into the saddle as Sokka grabbed him around the middle, folding the wings of the glider in against themselves.

"Sokka, let me go! I need to get Katara! We can't just leave her behind! Let go of me Sokka! Katara!"

Tears.

Tears flowed from Sokka's eyes as he looked back at his sister, who was growing steadily smaller as he moved away. Tears flooded Aang's voice and eyes, choking and blinding the Avatar as he finally understood. Tears ran in shining streams down Katara's cheeks, happy tears, mournful tears, but not the bitter tears that she had previously shed on that same iron deck.

"Goodbye! Be safe! Goodbye!" she shouted after them, waving, so they would know that she was all right, even if they couldn't hear her.

But they did hear her. The wind, as faithful as it had always been, carried her words back to the boys, singing like music those last words:

"_Goodbye_!"

* * *

Zuko stepped heavily onto the deck. The doctor had finally left him alone, finding nothing wrong with the imagined pain. The ivory colored bison flew into the distance, taking its two passengers, his only hope, his country, his throne, his father with it.

_I'm really, really stupid,_ he thought bitterly. But then Katara stepped down from the railing on which she had been leaning, lowered her previously waving arm, and smiled at him.

Her face was stained and red with shed tears, she mourned the loss of her friends, but she smiled. She rejoiced in their freedom, and for the first time in so long, she was truly happy. She walked forward and gently wrapped her arms around him, capturing him in a grateful embrace.

"Thank you," she said. There was joy in her voice. "Thank you so much, Zuko." Zuko returned the embrace and buried his face in her hair. She was with him. Maybe for a few days, maybe for longer. But for now, at least, she was with him.

_It was worth it._


	17. Aftermath

Disclaimer: Does it look like I own anything? I didn't think so. Not until we get this Nickelodeon takeover organized. Though I have already gotten several volunteers and donated weapons.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Aftermath**

Iroh stepped out onto the deck just as the sun was beginning to rise. As he had predicted, the dawn was a marvelous sight, awash in pale color and light. His crew was below deck, those who weren't guarding the Avatar or preparing breakfast were still in bed, exhausted from music night the previous evening. He considered bringing Katara up to look at it. She had been looking a bit ill lately, and such a splendor would do her good. Iroh turned, feeling good about his decision, and was met by quite a remarkable sight.

The Avatar's flying bison was disappearing into the brilliant sky, two riders on its back. And standing on the deck, wrapped in each other's arms, were Katara and Prince Zuko. Iroh was puzzled.

Had the Avatar left his friend behind? Or had she chosen to stay?

And had Prince Zuko somehow not noticed that his adversary of two years was flying away? Or did he just not care?

It was an enigma. Which made it that much more fun to observe.

_This would make a fine picture_, he decided idly as he observed the young sweethearts against the jewel toned sky. _A fine picture indeed_.

For a few moments he watched them in secret, until he heard the groggy sailors begin to shuffle from their rooms inside the ship. Iroh retreated a few steps into the hallway, then emerged again.

"Oh! Good morning. Did the two of you sleep well?" he greeted them. Prince Zuko went suddenly rigid, startled by his uncle's appearance. Katara, bless her, was slightly less used to the old man's intrusions. She dropped her arms to her sides and pulled away, her face washed red in a blush. Prince Zuko opened his mouth to protest his uncle's intrusion, but he was interrupted when one of the Avatar's guards burst through the hatch.

"Prince Zuko! General Iroh! It's the Avatar, he's escaped!" Iroh spared a glance at the sky. The bison had disappeared from sight, engulfed in the richly colored clouds. Prince Zuko seemed to have noticed this as well.

"Search the ship," he said quietly. "He couldn't have gotten far. Not with his injuries." The guard nodded and rushed away with his orders.

* * *

The ship was scoured three times over before the crew realized the obvious. The Avatar had escaped. One of the guards finally came to the bridge to report the news. 

"...Sir?" he said gingerly. "It seems that the Avatar is no longer on the ship. Nor is his friend. Which way should we go?" Zuko stepped past the guard and examined one of the maps that hung from the walls.

"Steer for Port Sechi," he said idly, picking one of the smaller harbors to the west. The guard looked a bit uneasy.

"And...the girl. She's still on board. What should we do about her?" Zuko shrugged.

"Leave her here. She's obviously been abandoned by the Avatar, so I doubt that there's any valuable information she would know about."

"Should we lock her away? She may try to sabotage..."

"No. She will sleep in the room she has been staying in. She brought me the Avatar, didn't she? She won't try to hinder me." The guard looked a little uneasy, but he said no more. Zuko, seeing no more reason to stay in the bridge, climbed down the stairs that led to the deck. Uncle Iroh was at the bottom, musing on something or another.

"And where are you off to?" the retired general asked idly. Zuko considered lying, but shrugged off the thought.

"To check up on Katara." This seemed to amuse Zuko's uncle to no end. An interested grin slid onto the old man's face.

"Really?" he asked. "By the way, I was wondering... what exactly were the two of you doing this morning?" Good. That implied that he had not seen everything that had happened. Zuko was safe from some degree of teasing, at least.

"Why do you want to know?"

"It seems to have done wonders for her health." Zuko shrugged.

"I didn't do anything." _She got more than an hour's sleep and ate a full meal for the first time in days. Of course she's feeling better. All I did for her was help to clear her conscience._

That stupid grin had not left his uncle's face.

"Of course. As it is, you shouldn't delay. I doubt you would want to keep your lover waiting." Zuko twitched, but he offered no argument to his uncle's ridiculous ideas. He only rolled his eyes and walked on. Katara was sitting in her cot, humming softly to herself as she mended a tear in her robe. In its place she wore the spare clothes that Zuko had given her-- a simple red shirt over a pair of baggy black pants. It didn't suit her at all, but it served it's purpose. She glanced up when he arrived at the door.

Uncle Iroh had been right. Her skin had lost its pallor, her eyes had regained their spark. She looked so much more like she had when he had spoken to her, weeks before, under a twilit sky. When he... Zuko blinked once to clear his mind.

"Hello, Zuko," Katara greeted. Cheer wove through her voice, but it didn't entirely mask her newly acquired determination. The Exiled Prince couldn't restrain a slight smile.

"Katara," he returned. "Tell me, are you hungry?" From what he had been able to gather, she had barely eaten during her first week on board the ship. Only in the last three days did she begin to regain her appetite, but she had been too preoccupied with plans and preparations to eat more than a few small morsels. But the girl made no allusions to her near starvation. Instead she nodded gaily.

"Sure. Why? Did you stop by the galley on the way here?"

"Not quite. Would you care to join my uncle and me for lunch?" his voice had taken on the silky sound of the manipulator, the interrogator. Katara had figured this much out, apparently, and she raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. So, would you?" he pressed again. Katara shrugged and put down the robe.

"Why not?"

Katara had regained her strength and peace of mind in the last three days. Which meant that she didn't need Zuko to support her as he led her to the dining hall. This much was unfortunate, considering that he really did want an excuse to hold her again.

And he had nothing left to trade.

Uncle Iroh, predictably enough, was already in the dining hall when they arrived. He looked tactfully surprised at the new arrival.

"Ah, Katara! Will you be gracing our table today? Wonderful! Come, sit down, have yourself something to eat. The fish is spectacular," he recommended. Katara looked slightly taken aback by his enthusiasm, but she did as he said and sat down. Zuko noted with some amusement that she didn't wait to have her chair pushed in. She came from the Water Tribe, after all. Such things had probably never been addressed to her.

That much was unfortunate. She deserved to be shown respect. Especially for what she was trying to accomplish by staying with him now. Zuko pushed the notion aside for the moment and sat down at his chair. One of the sailors, this one a servant, put a particularly large fish on the table. He left the room for a moment, only to return with a pot of tea. He poured the contents of the pot into three cups before placing one before each diner.

"Thank you," Katara said softly when she received hers. The servant glanced down at her in surprise, but offered a light smile.

"Pleasure, miss," he said before leaving the room. Zuko mentally tried to brush off the encounter. It had been all of four words, most likely an act of pure habit for Katara. There was no reason to take the servant's reaction personally.

_But still... if he touches her.._. the thought came unbidden to Zuko, and he pushed it out of his mind as quickly as it had arrived. He turned his attention to his uncle, who was now talking quite cheerfully to Katara.

"You know, I was wondering why there was an extra place set. But I should have guessed! But what a pleasant surprise, nonetheless. Are you enjoying the fish?"

"It's delicious," Katara said with a slight nod.

"Good. Salmon, you know. One of my favorites. Our cook prepares it exquisitely, don't you agree? He adds just a pinch of ginger, and..." Uncle Iroh went on like that for several minutes. Katara, far from being annoyed or smothered by his mindless chatter, seemed fascinated. She evidently knew something about cooking, most likely from months of taking care of her brother and the Avatar. She asked several questions, and Zuko found himself growing interested. For some reason, fish seemed far more interesting when Katara was talking about them...

"An ingenious idea," Iroh remarked as the conversation began to wane. "We must try it soon. By the way, do you intend to stay with us very long?" Katara hesitated and cast a short glance at Zuko before she nodded.

"Yes. I think I will." Unfortunately, the lapse in her answer had earned the notice of Uncle Iroh. Who immediately misinterpreted it.

"I see," he said gleefully. "I do hope you enjoy yourself. I know that both of us will be overjoyed to have your company." Katara smiled.

"Thank you," she said. "I will."

* * *

As the ship moved, the small crew was alight with rumors. Who was the new girl, really? Why had the Avatar left her behind? How did she know Prince Zuko? And why were they spending so much time together? She had been taking fierce care of the Avatar before he had left, the doctor and several guards could testify to that. That piece of information implied that she had been the Avatar's friend. But experience told them that the Avatar was just as fiercely loyal to those who helped him. They were puzzled, but one thing was very clear. 

The girl was off limits.

Even though they had only suspicions to go on, they saw enough in Prince Zuko's strange behavior to conclude that he had taking a serious liking to her. But nothing was confirmed: the Exiled Prince rarely touched the girl, he didn't act shy or foolish or do any of the hundred other things that most teenage boys do around pretty girls.

But something about him had changed drastically. He didn't shout his orders, didn't lose his temper. At least not when she was around to hear. And he wasn't as reclusive as he had once been, and took the time to introduce her to anyone whom she asked about.

This included almost everyone.

Though she stayed mostly with Prince Zuko, the men came to enjoy her company. Most of them had left behind sweethearts and sisters of their own when they left for sea, and she served as a pleasant reminder of those women.

* * *

It took them a day and a half to reach Port Sechi, and almost immediately, Zuko released a majority of the crew out into the city, allowing them to stretch their legs and look around. Shortly after he did so, Zuko walked to Katara's room, hoping for a chance to speak to her privately. 

But she wasn't in her room.

"Have you seen Katara?" he called out to one of the sailors who passed him in the hallway. The man nodded carefully.

"Yes, sir. The last time I saw her, your uncle was taking her to the city."

Zuko twitched.

"What?" he asked. He wasn't sure he honestly wanted to know what Iroh had planned for Katara.

"I think he took her shopping..." Zuko gave the man a dismissive nod and stormed to his room.

_Of all the..._ he thought. _That man is obsessed! Can he go nowhere without looking for a sale? And why in the world did he have to drag Katara along?Has he no sense?_ On his uncle's last shopping spree, they had gotten their ship destroyed, an infuriating accident resulting in deals with pirates and a run in with the Avatar. And Katara... The time before that, his uncle had let it slip who they were while inside an earth nation port, and the entire town had formed an angry mob that chased the crew out of the harbor. The time before had ended in similar disaster. It was fact: Uncle Iroh's shopping trips were cursed. Or incredibly unlucky.

_So what was he thinking, bringing Katara with him? _He found himself pacing his room irritably. An hour passed, and they hadn't returned. Zuko found himself growing ever more annoyed, so he turned to one of his favorite activities: training.

There was no real point to the exercises anymore. The search for the Avatar was over, and he already knew he was a match for most men. But the repetition of the attacks calmed him somewhat, enough for him to begin meditating.

_Katara's safe_, was his mantra. _Katara's fine. And she's staying with me now. She'll stay with me for a while, at least. I'll see her when she gets back. And she will get back. She's safe_.

Zuko was on the top of the ladder that led to the bridge when he saw his uncle and Katara leave one of the shops in town. An annoying wind was hissing in his ears, but it did nothing to obstruct his view, nor did it delay him as he climbed down to the deck. He ignored the puzzled eyes of the crew and marched to the docking ramp.

Katara looked neither hurt nor traumatized, and Uncle Iroh wasn't hurrying away from the shop. That was a good sign. Maybe nothing had gone wrong.

That would be a first.

Regardless, Zuko leaned against the railing nonchalantly, determined to look unphazed by Katara's absence. The girl smiled up at him when she stepped onto the ramp, and Zuko offered her a slight smile in return.

Perhaps... perhaps they could make one stop without disaster.

That wouldn't be too hard.


	18. Will You Help Me See?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. If I did own Avatar, I would be posting a new episode every two weeks. And I wouldn't wait until next year to get the second season out. And I would make a DVD of the first season. Then I would buy it. Then I would assassinate Ozai and take over the Fire Nation. Then I would go penguin sledding with Aang and Katara and I'd force Zuko to come too.

AN: Thank you all for 314+ reviews. That makes me quite happy! And just so you know, I really liked writing this chapter. I really hope you all enjoy reading it.

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* * *

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**Chapter 18: Will You Help Me See?**

Zuko didn't take any chances with Katara after that.

Meaning that the next time his uncle took her shopping, the exiled Prince accompanied them.

Much to his combined pleasure and torment.

He kept his face carefully neutral during the excursion, following them both through the city, and trying to stay as silent as Uncle Iroh would allow. The latter suited neither of the men, and Uncle Iroh kept making ridiculous efforts to provoke Zuko to speech. Zuko, meanwhile, made a point of keeping his answers as short as physically possible.

"Prince Zuko," he would say too often. "What do you think of these woodwinds? Wouldn't they be fine on music night?"

"Sure."

"Music night?" Katara asked on this occasion. Zuko noticed that the only success of his uncle's efforts was to make Katara talk instead. This he didn't mind, actually.

"Yes. I thought it would do everyone good to relax once in a while, so we have a weekly music night. Quite an experience. You must come and join us, Katara."

"I...I guess," Katara said, too polite to refuse the invitation.

_Stop it, uncle, before you smother her,_ Zuko thought. Uncle Iroh had already invited Katara to more than a dozen other events and other things, many of them coinciding with each other. It seemed that only Zuko and Katara were aware of this, however.

"See that girl over there? Yeah, that one..." Zuko turned slightly to better hear the voice that was drifting through the crowd.

"That one? By the two soldiers?" a second voice hiccuped.

"Yeah. That one is really old, isn't he?" a third voice said groggily. The first voice laughed.

"I know it! But that girl...man, ain't she something?"

"Yeah...heh heh... her robes are a bit...loose, don't you think?" the second voice said. The other two voices laughed hysterically at the remark. Zuko finally caught a glance of the speakers. They stood several shops away, just outside of a tavern. By their looks, none of them were sober, and they kept pointing in Katara's direction and making vulgar comments. Zuko spared another glance at Katara. She was facing away from the three men, showing no sign of having heard them. Most likely she had missed their words in the noise of the market. That much, at least, was good. She didn't need to worry about wretches like them.

He stared at the leader, catching his eye. Once the drunken man was paying attention, Zuko shot him a freezing glare and opened his hand a few inches away from his side. A small ball of flame formed in the air over his palm.

The drunk paled. He turned away, muttering something to his friends, and they staggered away from the tavern, disappearing into the crowd. Zuko smiled vaguely to himself.

_I knew she'd need me,_ he thought.

"Zuko?" Katara woke him from his satisfaction. "Is something going on?"

"Not at all," he told her. She didn't need to know. And he didn't need his uncle to start going on about jealousy.

Zuko guarded Katara secretly for the rest of the day, paying more attention to the people meandering through the acropolis than to the goods that Uncle Iroh was crowing about. He was used to the old man, who now had Katara's opinions to keep him occupied. Evidently his current project was the furnishings of her room, which would shortly be filled with odd furniture and elegant hangings and whatever other odds and ends his uncle thought would look good in the room. Anything that Katara glanced at for more than an instant was also bought, much to her alarm. Unce Iroh assured her that he had no trouble with money, but Zuko finally had to intercede, finally convincing his uncle that they had done enough shopping. The old man reluctantly agreed, though only when he was reminded that it was nearly time for supper.

They returned to the ship, _and not too soon_, by Zuko's opinion. The crew was left to bring the spoils of the venture on board while he, Katara and Uncle Iroh ate their dinner.

* * *

"You'll have to forgive my uncle," Zuko said later that evening. "He's... eccentric like that. He means well, though." Katara smiled up at him. 

"I know," she said gently. "And it's all right. I wasn't offended or anything."

_No. You wouldn't be._

"Does he do things like that often?" she continued with a laugh. Zuko rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"All the time. His shopping trips are famous in the Fire Nation."

"I can imagine," Katara chuckled, now attempting to fix her bedsheets. She had been trying to unpack and arrange a few of the things Iroh had bought her, but the sheets (Blue, Iroh had insisted, simply because it suited her) had gotten into a hopeless tangle. Zuko stepped forward soundlessly and picked up one of the corners opposite her and laid it down against the newly acquired mattress. He personally had recommended this, despite his uncle's suggestive glance, which promised plenty of jokes later. Not that it mattered: Katara should have something softer than an iron cot to sleep on.

"Thank you," Katara said softly, laying a couple of pillows on the sheets.

"Any time," Zuko said with a shrug, carefully stepping over a potted shrub. The floor had been covered by an intricate rug and several small plants. Neither Zuko nor Katara had found any practical use in the latter, but Iroh had insisted on them nonetheless, and so the little bushes sat proudly in their painted vessels, looking quite ridiculous. A large hanging had been draped across one of the walls, depicting a scene from the north pole. Zuko studied this, when awkward silences permeated into their conversations. He had thus far avoided any mention of her home, being careful not to remind her of what she had left behind to stay with him. He wasn't sure if the tapestry had been a wise move on his uncle's part, but it was fascinating nonetheless; it showed the Water Tribe people, some in canoes in pursuit of a large seal, some working in a carefully stitched village, some standing watch against whatever dangers the frigid world could offer.

_Will she go back there?_ Zuko wondered, turning his piercing gaze back to Katara. _When she leaves me, will she go back to her people? _

_Or to the Avatar?_

The thought pained him, but he couldn't push it from his mind.

_Because she will leave. She'll wear out. She'll get homesick. Pretty soon she'll miss her brother and the South Pole and that stupid, stupid Avatar, and she'll leave here and never look back. She'll leave _me_ without a second thought._ He formed his face into a neutral mask, effectively hiding the anger that was beginning to boil within him.

_But why? Why? Does the entire World want me to be unhappy? Do the fates have some kind of plan to make me miserable? Am I just meant to suffer? Did I really transgress so horribly when I spoke out against Father, that I deserve all of this?_

His thoughts cooled suddenly as his eyes traced Katara's gentle features.

_Maybe I do. But maybe...maybe I'm being forgiven. Just a little bit._

Katara noticed his stare and turned, her sapphire eyes full of questions. Zuko only smiled at her.

_Maybe I have a chance. While she's here, maybe..._

No. There was no maybe.

_While she's here, I am happy.

* * *

_

Zuko went with his uncle and Katara into the town again the next day. This trip promised to be shorter than the last, because Uncle Iroh insisted that they were only going to retrieve some of the clothes he had commissioned. Katara needed something better to wear than spare clothes from the soldiers, and Zuko wasn't about to disagree. His own mood had improved severely since his reverie the day before.

They passed between several tailors shops, and Zuko and Iroh were left in the main rooms while Katara was pulled into the back to try on her new clothes. Uncle Iroh took full advantage of the situation.

"Well, Prince Zuko! I didn't think you enjoyed shopping so much. You really should have spoken up sooner!"

Zuko said nothing.

"Or shall I assume that you came for Katara? My, my, how jealous you are!" he laughed good naturedly. Zuko continued to ignore him. "But I think you will be happily surprised. Just be patient!" Prince Zuko rolled his eyes and turned his attention to a couple of women who were standing outside the window.

"Did he really? How sweet of him!" one of them squealed.

"I know..." the other said with a blush. "And then do you know what he did? He comes up, right in front of my father, and pushes a ring into my hand. And then he says, as soft as anything, 'will you marry me?'" Both women now erupted into giggles.

"And what did you say?" the first cried. "Did you tell him yes?"

"Of course I did!" Her friend squealed again.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, Donne! I knew you two would end up together."

"Thank you," Donne said. "But when did you figure it out? I only realized a day before he asked me."

"It was the rose," her friend explained. "When he gave you that rose...oh, it was so sweet! Don't you know? That's how men admit they love you when they can't say it. They give you flowers! My Letel did the same thing. And roses mean true love, don't you know? And..." her voice faded as the women moved away from the window.

Uncle Iroh was saying some random piece of nonsense, but Zuko payed no attention. The old man stopped on his own when Katara stepped out of the back room, shepherded out by the tailor, a large parcel in her arms. Uncle Iroh went forward and paid the man for the new clothes and they left the shop.

* * *

Katara stepped out from behind the screen in the corner of her room, a nervous smile playing on her lips. Zuko only stared. 

_Wow_. Katara's eyes searched him uneasily.

"Does it look too bad?" she asked.

"No," Zuko rasped. His throat had gone suddenly dry. "No. It looks nice."

_Nice_?

Ten thousand under-exaggerations had plagued the world before Zuko spoke the word, but in that moment, they all bowed their heads in shame.

Because honestly, Katara didn't look 'nice'. She was beautiful. The gown was a shower of indigo and azure and silver, the silk hugging her form and washing down her body in elegant folds, shimmering as though it was alive. Her eyes glistened, their gentle glow magnified a thousand times by the garments.

Zuko forced himself to look away, feeling a sudden need to bathe in ice water.

"Thank you," Katara said, apparently encouraged by his meager praise. Zuko longed to give her something more, to tell her exactly how amazing she looked and how she made him feel and a thousand other things, but no words entered his mind.

He had never really looked for beauty before, and if he had seen it, he brushed it off as being nice, but unimportant. Magnificent, impressive, threatening, awe inspiring, these he understood. But never simple, pure, heart tearing beauty. He had never felt anything like this. Before Katara, there had been his mission, and before that, his father. Neither of these had left him any time for idle reflection. Grace was meant for battle and diplomacy. Art was some toy of his uncle's. Beauty... it had never been considered. He had heard members of the crew use the word, describing girls they had flirted with, sometimes describing their sisters. He had never thought to apply it to Katara.

"May I come in?" Uncle Iroh called from the door. At once Zuko cursed and welcomed the interruption to his thoughts.

"Of course," Katara replied politely, and the old man stepped into the room, a pleased smile on his face.

"Katara, you look wonderful!" he declared. "And to think, I was worried that the dress would do you no justice." Zuko silently vowed never again to criticize his uncle's shopping habits. Katara smiled, slightly embarrassed.

"Thank you," she mumbled. Iroh continued to shower her with praise while Zuko stood silent, committing her every feature to his memory. He felt tempted to step forward and hold her, to kiss her and never, ever stop. But he didn't move. That temptation was bridled by a terrible foreboding, a fear that if he touched her now, she would shatter, that she would fall away into a thousand shards and leave him alone, with nothing but sweet memory to tantalize his senses. And so he remained still and silent, content only to watch.

"Zuko?" she asked, drawing him from his thoughts. "Are you all right?"

_Yes. It's just like her to be concerned._

"Yes," he breathed. "I'm fine, Katara." Her name fell from his lips like a prayer.


	19. Thorns of the Rose

Disclaimer: Is this necessary? All right, I'll say it again. I own nothing. Nothing. NO. Thing. Most likely, I will never own anything. Unless the writers for Avatar see this fiction and ask me to help them a little bit (come on, guys! You know those threatening letters and bribes I've sent you are interesting!) I'm not going to own anything. Argh...That makes me sad.

AN: Thank you to Mushrambolover for helping me with the title.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Thorns of the Rose**

Zuko wandered restlessly through the maze of shops, quickly writing off everything he saw as wrong. He was looking for something, but he had no idea what it was or where to find it.

Which made locating it quite difficult.

His mind was still hazy from the previous evening, when Katara had tried on the dress Uncle Iroh had bought for her. That vision had overwhelmed him, and he still felt as if he was intoxicated and reeling.

He stopped at one booth, carefully examining a series of hand mirrors in carved frames. He picked up one, examining the tiny ivory birds that perched elegantly around the pane of silver glass. He tipped the mirror forward, bringing more of the fine details into light, and the glass caught his reflection.

The image of his scar seemed to leap out at him. Nearly half of his face was brutally disfigured, glaring a violent red, its expression locked into a fierce scowl. It was sickeningly ugly, the loathsome reminder of his weakness.

_There is _**nothing**_ weak about sparing lives._

He lowered the mirror, awakened by the memory of Katara's voice, her touch, her gentle hand on his cheek. Had his torment faded so quickly? Had he been able to forget the reason why he had avoided mirrors for two years? He glanced down at the mirror again, careful to point it away from his face. And he drew in a hasty breath.

Shining in the reflection, walking through a crowd several dozen yards away, was Katara. He replaced the mirror on the table where it belonged and looked quickly into the crowd where the looking glass had pointed. Surely enough, he caught a trace of Katara's braided hair moving briskly through the sea of people, her back turned to him.

And following her like vultures were the three drunk men from before.

* * *

Katara pushed her way to the docks, trying to looked relaxed and oblivious to the men who were pursuing her. She recognized three of them as the drunks Zuko had chased away two days before. But they were sober now, and they had brought several friends with them. Their earlier conversation had left little to the imagination in regard to their plans for her... 

She suppressed a shudder and kept walking, making sure to keep as many people around her as possible.

_There's safety in numbers,_ GranGran had said. _Even if those numbers are in strangers._

The crowd diminished as she neared the docks, and she hesitated. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the men closing in around her. Their leader came dangerously close behind her, and Katara stepped subtly out of his reach, pretending she hadn't seen him.

"Hey, sweetheart," the man said coolly. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Katara didn't look back at him. There was no more safety in the crowd. She continued walking, moving until she stood on the wooden planks of the dock. The men closed in, sealing off the dock and her only means of escape. They had her cornered.

Katara finally turned, squarely facing her stalkers.

"There's nowhere to go, sweetheart," the leader crooned, stepping forward. "Unless you want to come with us." A sickening leer painted his face. Far behind him, the crowds of passers by pressed closer to the shops, staying clear of the dock. Whatever was about to happen, they wanted no part in it. Katara's stalkers exchanged rude snickers and their leader continued his advance.

"What do you say?" he laughed.

"I think I'll pass," Katara hissed. She stepped forward as though to bolt, then suddenly stopped, her arms winding before her as though to help regain her balance. The man laughed—until a silvery whip shot out of nowhere, cracking against him once, twice, and finally knocking him off the dock and into the water. His gang stared stupidly at her for a moment, then charged forward.

Katara was ready for them. Another water whip rose from the sea, striking down two more of the men and drenching three more. These men she froze to the wooden floor and she sent a burst of water to throw another one from the dock.

She prepared another water whip, but heard running footsteps behind her. She turned slightly and caught sight of the leader, drenched and heaving, rushing at her with a knife in his hand and murder in his eye. She dodged out of his way and the water whip fell back into the sea, her hold over it broken. The leader stumbled past her but turned and rushed back, now flanked by a half dozen of his remaining cohorts.

Katara's eyes narrowed and she backed away. They were too close now to fight off; she would only have time to drive about half of them away before the rest got a chance to attack her. She had to flee, to escape into the water. Then she could Waterbend her way to safety. Back to the ship. She turned to leap from the dock when she heard a man scream.

Or rather, several men.

Katara glanced over her shoulder to see two of the men rushing away from their comrades, diving into the water to extinguish their flaming clothes. Another man flew from the dock in a burst of flame. The leader of her attackers glanced back to see what was going on, and Katara seized her chance, summoning up another water whip to bring him to the ground. Zuko stepped up behind another goon and threw him angrily into the water. The remaining two attackers turned to flee, but both were launched into the sea, spurred on by a water whip and a flaming punch. The leader scrambled to his feet, his eyes now wide with desperation.

Zuko and Katara stood between him and the dock. His eyes narrowed, and he charged forward, bellowing like a rhino, his knife raised.

* * *

Zuko met him head on. He grabbed the wrist that held the knife with one hand and used the other to send a crippling blow into the man's stomach. 

"Don't ever come near her again," he hissed into his ear, tightening his grip until the man whimpered in pain. The man's wet sleeve began to steam and then smoke beneath Zuko's fiery touch.

"Understand?" Zuko growled. The man squeaked in terror and nodded madly, begging his captor to release him. The exiled Prince gave the man one last glare and threw him to the side, where he tumbled haphazardly until he rolled off the wooden planks. He straightened and closed his eyes. This...would be awkward. He turned to Katara, keeping his face carefully neutral.

He wanted to be angry with her for going out by herself like that. He wanted to be proud of her for holding them all off on her own. He wanted to yell at her until he couldn't breathe. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to the safety of the ship. He wanted to grab her right there and kiss her and never, ever stop.

He wanted a lot of things.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked instead.

"No," she said evenly. She was studying his face, gauging him. "I'm fine. Thank you." Zuko nodded, though he wasn't sure why.

"Good," he said quietly. "We should go."

"Yeah," Katara agreed, and they walked together from the dock, trying to avoid the small crowd of spectators who had been too cowardly to come forward earlier.

"What were you doing out here?" Zuko asked at last, breaking the unsettling silence that overshadowed them. Katara shrugged.

"You mean before those men came after me? I'm not really sure. Just walking, I guess. What about you?"

"The same." Another silence descended. "By any chance, did you speak to my uncle before you left?"

"Yes...he said it would be all right."

"All right for you to go alone?" Katara shrugged again.

"He didn't see any problem with it. I couldn't find you..." Zuko felt a pang of guilt stab through him. "And I didn't think you wanted to come back here." Zuko smiled grimly.

"It isn't the city that I mind. It's my uncle's obsessive shopping."

"You mean he acts like that all the time?" Katara asked, her voice veined with laughing disbelief.

"Exactly. It was entertaining enough at first, but after a while, his habits get a bit old."

"He sounds like my brother," Katara mused with a laugh. Zuko hesitated, then continued.

"Except he doesn't keep trying to kill me," he pointed out.

"True," Katara said, giggling. The sound suffused through Zuko, kindling a soft warmth within him. He laughed as well, out of simple joy at her presence. They continued joking and laughing softly, their previous tension forgotten.

Zuko barely even realized when he took Katara's hand.

The motion was so subtle, so sublime, that even he was unaware before he felt his fingers grazing her palm, capturing the feel of her skin beneath his touch. He closed his hand over hers, holding it close so she would never be apart from him. Katara glanced up at him, wordlessly questioning him, but not pulling away. He offered her a half smile and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it gently.

Katara looked surprised. Startled, though not unpleasantly so. Zuko laid his free hand on her shoulder and guided her the rest of the way back to the ship, their passage cloaked by a comfortable silence.

* * *

It was a rose. 

Zuko nearly laughed when he saw it. A perfect red rose, with petals as soft as velvet and as bright as fire.

It was that thing which had beckoned him from the ship that morning, just in time to see Katara fight off a dozen perverted thugs. And it had called to him again, when Katara took her bath, and summoned him down from the deck of the ship for just a few minutes.

The rose was clutched in the hand of a child. A girl, barely seven years old, who tried to sell flowers to the unyielding crowd, while it's members pushed her aside as though she was worth nothing. Zuko strode to the girl's side with fluid grace, drawing a few coins from the pouch at his belt. Most likely they would suffice.

He dropped the coins into the basket of flowers that the girl carried, the tinkle of metal startling the girl into attention.

"I'd like to buy one of your flowers," he said quietly. The girl nodded eagerly and plucked the finest of the roses from her basket, humbly offering it to him. "Thank you," he said absently, before returning to the ship, his prize finally achieved.

* * *

The girl smiled gratefully at the man. She hadn't sold any other flowers that day, and she had nearly fallen into despair. But not yet! That kind man had come to her, and bought one of her mother's roses, provided them both with bread for that evening. But he had done more for her—he had thanked her! He had spoken to her as though she was human, as though she was worth looking at. So used was she to being kicked around and shouted at, that the man's soft words sounded like the melody of an angel to her wounded ears. She looked down into her basket to retrieve the money the angel-man had paid her, and tears began to fall from her eyes. 

She thought she had heard two copper pieces falling into her basket. But she had been wrong.

For in the basket, resting on the blossoms of her unsold roses, were seven gold sovereigns.

* * *

Katara wrapped her new clothes more tightly around her as she returned to her room. The air around her was warm—it always was, heated by the lamps that lit the hallways and by the moods of the Firebenders on board. And one Firebender in particular... 

Katara felt herself blush without really knowing why. After all, Zuko had only kissed her hand. He'd done far more before...

The blush in her cheeks deepened.

_Why am I thinking about all this?_ She thought. _He...he was probably just being nice. Or something. Or...I don't know. But he didn't mean it. He couldn't have meant it. It was just him being a teenage boy or playing games with my head or...something. I don't know. We're too different. I mean, everything about us is completely opposite. He's a Firebender, I'm a Waterbender. We're from completely different places. He's a Prince, for crying out loud! And what am I? Just another nobody girl from the Water Tribe. It would never work out. It could never work._

_So stop wishing._ Katara touched the spot that Zuko had kissed. She brought her hand to her cheek and sighed.

_There's no way it will work. But that doesn't mean I won't try._ She offered the empty room a resolute smile, and for the first time, a long, elegant shape caught her eye. A flower, laid carefully across her pillow. She picked it up, careful to avoid the sharp thorns that adorned its stem. She had never seen a flower like it, only ever heard of it in passing. But as she inhaled its gentle aroma, whether through instinct or wishful thinking, she knew what it meant, and who had put it there.

* * *

Zuko laid back on his bed, feeling satisfied and peaceful. Katara would have found the rose by now. Whatever the consequences of the gift would be, he was willing to accept them. More than willing. Because he could still hear the words of an excited woman, giggling with her friend about her sweetheart: 

_Roses mean true love._


	20. Into the Tempest

Disclaimer: I still don't own Avatar. This hostile takeover of Nickelodeon is taking a little longer than I thought. But never fear! It **will** work.

An: _**THIS IS IMPORTANT**_: The end is drawing near, so I have a poll for you. How do you want this to end? With a sequel? An epilogue? Or should I just let the story end as it is? Your vote makes a difference! And I kind of want to see how many people actually read the author's notes.

**

* * *

**

Chapter 20: Into the Tempest

"Stay down here, Katara," Zuko said, standing against the heaving floor.

"What's going on?" Katara asked, standing up as well. The violent motions of the ship unsteadied her feet and made her uneasy. "The storm wasn't this bad a minute ago." Zuko shook his head.

"I think we've hit something. I'll see what's wrong. You need to stay here." He left a moment later, not waiting to listen to her protests. Katara leaned slightly against her cot, feeling the raging sea far beneath the floor of her room. Her senses were on edge, no longer distracted by Zuko's voice, and she found herself growing nervous.

_I can help, Zuko, _she thought. _I'm a Waterbender!_

The ship shuddered as though from pain. It was a crash not unlike the one she had felt minutes before. Katara tossed her head and dodged from her room, ignoring Zuko's order. She forced her way through the hallways and up the ramp, made slick by gallons of water. When she opened the hatch and emerged onto the deck, she met utter chaos.

Ruthless wind lashed at her, tearing at her clothes and hair. Icy rain stung her face and eyes, blurring the sight of the crew, as well as Iroh and Zuko, as they raced across the deck, trying to mend the massive dents and holes that were being carved into the surface of the ship. All around her, Katara could see mammoth waves that carried stones and wood and threw them at the ship, pummeling it with the debris. Her eyes widened as she saw an entire tree, ripped from its home by the roots, launch at one group as they tried to seal another hole.

Katara raised her hands and called to the water, pushing it, pulling it down and away from the ship. The wave hesitated, then grudgingly receded, dropping its weapon uselessly into the deeper water. Zuko threw a blast of fire at the hole, melting it shut, then turned and looked at Katara.

"What are you doing?" he shouted at her through the gale.

"Whatever I can!" Katara shouted back, before turning her attention to another wave. Zuko shook his head in disbelief, but was forced to accept her answer as he rushed out to seal another hole. Katara continued pulling down the waves, but they were countless and fierce, and it seemed that for every one that she silenced, three more rose out to take vengeance. Kane, one of the sailors, dragged himself to the ramp behind her, his arm broken by a piece of debris.

"Where is all of this stuff coming from?" Katara called to him as he passed. The man braced himself against the railing of the ramp before answering her.

"There's an island nearby. The storm is picking things up from there," he answered.

"Why didn't we dock there? Wouldn't we be safer on land?"

"That's what we're trying to do," he explained painfully. "We were caught in the storm before we had the chance!"

Katara didn't get a chance to respond to his words. A new wave was rising from the sea, this one massive. Katara threw out her hands and tried to push it back down, but the violent winds threw it out of her control and sent it pitching across the deck. Katara grabbed onto Kane with one hand and held onto the railing with the other, securing both herself and the sailor until the wave passed.

"Thanks," Kane said as he rushed down the ramp to the infirmary. Katara didn't hear him. Her attention had turned to the rest of the crew, most of which was clinging to the battered railings. Most of the familiar faces were shaking themselves off and returning to their work. All except for...

"Prince Zuko!" Iroh shouted over one of the railings. "Hold on! One of you, go get a rope!" he barked at the sailors, one of whom raced away. Katara paled and ran to Iroh's side.

"Where is he?" she cried.

"Down there!" The old man pointed to a vague red shape that was struggling against the waves far below the deck of the ship.

Without thinking, Katara pushed her hands out and called out to the water again. She pulled it up now, closer to her than before, in a long, wide mass. She felt Zuko's weight in the liquid, recognized his warmth. The mass of water parted from the sea, carrying Zuko up with it.

_Just like fishing back home. Focus. Focus. You have to bring him up. Come on, Katara!_

"Just a little closer, Katara!" Iroh urged, reaching out for his nephew. Katara nodded breathlessly, still drawing the Zuko closer to her. The effort of her task was beginning to wear on her, but she dared not stop.

He was a dozen feet from his uncle's hand... a half dozen... a yard...

Another wave rose up behind him, swallowing him completely. Iroh was toppled forward, but he managed to grab onto the guard rail, keeping himself from joining his nephew overboard.

The water rushed forward in angry retribution and dragged at the Bender that dared defy it. Still leaned precariously over the rail, she was pitched off her feet, and she and Zuko plunged down into the depths of the sea.

The water churned around Katara, whipped out of her control by the screaming wind. She tried to swim against the violent water, but her heavy robe caught her hands and feet, dragging her away from the surface. Frustrated by its defiance, she pulled it off, leaving only her thin undergarments on as she struggled to find air.

She searched frantically through the murky water for any sign that she was getting closer.

Something. Anything...

Her lungs screamed from want of air, her limbs ached with fatigue. With all her might she bent a current of water beneath her, driving her up, up—

She was caught there by a gale driven wave and slammed against the hull of the ship. Katara clawed at the sides, but her hands touched only smooth steel, absolutely merciless to her desperation. She tried to cry out, but her mouth and throat filled with salty brine. Zuko was nowhere to be seen.

_He got up. Iroh managed to grab him in time. Good job, Iroh! _The happy thought gave way to another: _I'm going to die,_ she realized with a mixture of horror and amusement._ I'm going to die. Pity...but maybe...maybe I'll see mom...again..._ Her struggles faltered for an instant, and she began to sink into the darkness.

* * *

_Katara! No, no, no, I have to save her, I have to, I have to save Katara! Please don't let Katara die!_ The words flew through Zuko's mind in a wild mantra He no longer felt the weariness in his limbs or the buffeting rain and waves. He forced his way through the merciless sea, desperately searching the waves—Katara had been there, just now, before she disappeared amidst their rage. Zuko dove under the surface, praying for some clue to her whereabouts. 

It was there that he found her. Like an angel descending from the heavens, she sank into the heartless sea. Slowly, cruelly, the young Waterbender was being reclaimed by her element.

Zuko surfaced once to breath and raced down, down into the abyss. He fought his way to her side and caught her by the waist and he began to swim skyward. His lungs ached, but he barely noticed. It didn't matter. Katara was all that mattered.

_Please, _he begged to whatever was left to hear him. _Please don't let Katara die.

* * *

_

Katara's eyes opened wearily. She felt a pressure around her waist, an intense churning beneath her and beside her. And a warmth against her body that felt strange against the icy cold of the ocean. Her eyes focused as well as they could in the murky water, and then widened.

_Zuko!_ He hadn't made it to safety. He was still there, still in the water. And judging by his desperate, sluggish movements, he was dying. Just like her.

_No, no, NO!_

She threw her hand down, her will revived by desperation. Another current of water rushed up, propelling them both heavenward.

The two of them broke the surface, coughing and gasping for breath, blinded and deafened by the raging storm. Zuko started paddling forward with one hand, his other still holding Katara. Katara glanced up through the pounding rain, and recognized a massive shadow—the ship, bucking and tumbling across the vengeful sea. She scooped at the water herself in an effort to bring them closer to the ship, too tired to try to bend the water around them.

The waves, in some false sympathy, picked the two of them up and pulled them closer to the dark mass. It heaved them forward, _too fast!_ They were going to collide against the flat, relentless hull of the ship, and most likely be crushed. Both of them now struggled to escape the crushing blows of the waves, but fatigue had drained their minds and muscles and will. Zuko grabbed her roughly, pinning her arms to her sides in a frightening death grip and not letting go, even when the waves grabbed them both and heaved them against the iron sides of the ship in a single crushing blow.

Katara whimpered and braced herself for the impact, the ruthless impact of metal on skin.

She heard a sickening crunch as her body came to a sudden stop, a dozen feet above the sea, before plunging back into the water.

But the blow never came.

She looked up in confusion through the driving rain. Zuko's arms were still wrapped around her, his teeth clenched in agony. He was still holding her, keeping between her and the unforgiving wall of the ship.

"You okay?" he rasped into her ear.

"Yeah," Katara coughed shakily.

"Good," Zuko said, his voice almost torn completely away by the cruel wind.

Katara tried once more to focus. There was no more safety in the ship. Zuko had proved that. They had to get away. They had to survive. They...

_First thing's first,_ she reminded herself. _We can't keep swimming through this. We need to rest..._ She closed her eyes and sifted her mind through the water. She felt the lashing of the wind, the weight of the ship, the pinpricks of hundreds of pieces of debris as they were kicked up from a nearby island.

_Not near enough. We can't swim that far. _She turned her attention to the debris. Mostly stone and coral. Sand. A few pieces of wood. Those would help. But few of them were large enough or close enough to be of much help. And then...

The tree from before. It had been splintered into several pieces by the pounding stones, one of them still large enough to use as a kind of raft. She held on to Zuko and called out to the water again, bringing the piece of wood closer.

"Zuko, over there!" she called to him, pointing to the piece of rubble that was floating towards them. Zuko nodded and the two of them began to kick at the rough water, bringing them at last to the piece of driftwood. Another wave, this one more merciful than its brothers, scooped up the crushed tree trunk and carried it into their reach, and the two teenagers gratefully took hold of the wood. Katara hung lifelessly on the makeshift raft, almost entirely exhausted.

_Can't stop yet,_ she thought mulishly, and returned her mind to the water. In the distance she could feel the odd peace in the eye of the storm. Closer, in the other direction, lay the island. That would work. She summoned up the dregs of her strength and began to kick against the churning sea. Zuko took a cue from her action and started kicking too, and they slowly moved toward the island. Occasionally Katara freed one hand and bent the water to help them, to carry them closer to their salvation.

Sleep threatened to overtake her, so she focused her mind on the past, searching for something to keep her mind occupied.

A week and a half before they had left Port Sechi. Two days ago they had joined Iroh and the rest of the crew for Music Night. That much had been an enlightening experience. Zuko had kept close to Katara at all times, especially while random members of the crew were singing, a few of them emboldened by ale. Zuko didn't drink. Nor did he sing. He just stayed by her side, warded off the more intoxicated sailors who urged Katara to sing or dance...

Katara's thoughts were interrupted by the bludgeoning of the waves. She felt shards of shells and stones claw at her ankles, raised from their shallow beds by the storm. In the distance she saw the worn, welcome sight of the island.

"Zuko!" she shouted through the wind. "Zuko! We're almost there! Just a little further..." But Zuko wasn't listening. His eyes had lost their focus, his limbs had stopped moving. Another cruel wave pounded at them, and pulled his limp hands away from the raft, sucking him deep under the water. Katara's eyes widened and she released the mangled remains of the tree, diving down after Zuko. She grabbed him under the arms and pushed off against the shifting sand below her feet. The water was shallower than she had thought. But that didn't help her much.

Katara cursed herself silently. How long had he been unconscious? How long had she been too tired to notice that he wasn't moving anymore? He had been breathing earlier, but now he was eerily still and deathly cold, and only the slightest heartbeat confessed that he was still alive.

Katara was furious now. At the insolent water for doing so much to hurt them both, at Zuko for neglecting himself in order to help her. At the storm for causing them both so much pain. And most of all, she was angry at herself. She had let this happen. She hadn't been careful enough. It was all her fault. She slammed an enraged fist into the water, and it finally bent to her will, plummeting her and Zuko into the abrasive shore. Her grip on him had loosed for an instant, but she regained her feet on the now knee deep water and rushed to Zuko, grabbing him again and dragging him from the relentless sea and dragging him to the shore.

She knelt over him, checking to see if he was still alive. A faint pulse beat in his neck. But he wasn't breathing.

_He's swallowed too much water,_ Katara observed. She was shaking uncontrollably now, but she still managed to draw her hands over his chest, his throat, his mouth. A thick coil of water followed her hands as they left his lips, falling harmlessly in the sand.

_Good. It's out of his lungs now._ But he wasn't breathing. His pulse was growing ever softer, fading away into nothingness beneath her fingers.

"Come on, Zuko! You have to wake up. Please," she begged him, wiping the seawater from his face. The rain had stopped, and only dark clouds and the angry wind and water were left to testify of the storm. "Don't leave me, Zuko. Wake up. You have to breathe." Tears were falling from her eyes now, falling uselessly on Zuko's cheeks. She stared down at his still form, and a vague thought formed in the back of her mind. It was stupid. Crazy. But at this point, exhaustion and desperation and grief had made her feel more than insane. One more act couldn't do anything worse than what she was already facing.

"Then I'll breathe for you," she whispered into his ear with a mournful smile. She covered his mouth with hers, blowing a frightened burst of air into his unmoving body. She felt his chest rise near her hand, inflated by the artificial breath, and a trace of hope flickered into life. She blew again into his mouth, and again, and again, pausing only to breathe for herself.

A strange, hollow weight snaked across her back, but she ignored it, passing it off as nerves and delirium and exhaustion. The weight pulled her down on top of Zuko, and she found herself pinned to him, her lips locked on his.

Wearily, his beautiful golden eyes opened.

And then he kissed her.

For a moment, Katara was too shocked to respond, only one coherent thought flying through her fuzzy mind.

_He's alive!_

Renewed tears flowed from her eyes as she kissed him back, but they were tears of pure, unbridled joy. She laughed softly and kissed him again, before finally resting her forehead in the sand by his shoulder.

"Zuko..." she sobbed, her weeping interrupted by delirious laughter. "I was so scared... please don't leave me again..." Zuko smiled faintly and stroked her battered hair.

"Never again," he promised faintly, and then shivered. He had stripped off his shirt while he had been struggling against the waves, and now he only wore a pair of waterlogged breeches to ward off the icy wind.

"I'm cold..." he murmured. Katara's head lifted, her eyes filled with concern. "Keep me warm?" Katara nodded softly and lay down against him, hugging him close. Zuko returned the embrace, drinking in the warmth that seeped through her thin underclothes. Katara rested her cheek against his and was still, her fatigue finally bringing her into the peace of slumber.

* * *

Zuko woke several hours later, aware of only two things. 

First, he was extremely happy. He wasn't sure why, but he wasn't about to question his mood either.

Second, he was thirsty. He shook his head slightly, debating whether to get up and get something to drink from the galley, or to stay in bed where he was comfortable. His cheer was rather odd, because he'd had a terrible dream. Absolutely awful. But it had ended well. He rested his head once more on his pillow, deciding to go back to sleep.

His eyes shot open.

There was no pillow beneath his head. Only sand. Before his eyes was no ceiling but an open sky, flecked with a few birds and milky clouds. A strange weight covered him, and he was beginning to suspect that it was no blanket. He dared a glance down.

And was struck with a strange combination of elation and confusion.

Katara was lying beside him, her head resting peacefully on his bare chest. One hand was relaxed on his shoulder, the other was gently holding his. She wore a thin linen undergarment, caked with sand and salt and dried by the sun.

Memory flooded back to him, of the storm, of falling from the ship, of Katara falling in after him, and reviving him when he'd drowned.

He gazed at her tenderly and brushed the sand from her cheek. Katara stirred at his touch, and slowly woke. She blinked for a moment, just as disoriented as he had been. And with the realization of her...compromising position, she suddenly sat up, and a deep blush stained her cheeks.

Zuko was struck with the sudden realization that she was very cute when she was embarrassed.

"Good morning," he said quietly, catching her eyes with his stare. Her discomfort deepened, but she didn't look away. Zuko had long since learned how to hold a person's gaze. And it was unbelievably useful with Katara.

"Um...hi, Zuko..." she stammered awkwardly. "Are you...feeling better?" Zuko smiled. He considered pulling her back down with him, and spending the rest of the day just lying there, enjoying her touch. But he allowed her to retreat. He wouldn't force her to do anything she didn't want to do.

"Much better," he said, sitting up. He winced as he moved his bruised back. Katara was at his side immediately, her brow knit with worry.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Do you want anything?"

_I want you to stay with me and never leave me, Katara._

"Do you have any water?" he asked instead, tasting the salt that lined his mouth and throat. Katara looked around her for a moment, then seemed to decide better, and offered him a weak smile.

"I can try," she said. As Zuko gingerly sat up, she closed her eyes in concentration, bending a long strand of water from the nearby shore and bringing it into an orb close to her lap. She closed her fingers for a moment, then opened them again. As Zuko watched, the air beneath the sphere began to shimmer as thousands of grains of sand and salt fell away from the water. She opened her eyes tentatively to examine the purified water.

"Did it work?" she asked. Zuko nodded, decidedly impressed by her feat.

"When did you learn to do that?" he asked.

"Yesterday," Katara admitted sheepishly. "Oh! I'm an idiot," she said with a slight laugh.

"Not much of one," Zuko pointed out. "If you could figure out a trick like that in one day."

"Thanks, but I don't mean that. I wasn't thinking. There's nothing to drink out of." Zuko shrugged, ignoring the surge of pain from his bruised shoulders as he did so.

"We'll figure something out," he said. And as though to prove his statement, he cupped his hands a few inches beneath the liquid sphere and leaned forward, carefully sipping a mouthful of the water.

_It tastes sweet,_ he mused as the salt and brine was washed out of his mouth. The globe began to tremble and waver, and Katara put her own palms under the sphere, steadying it. Zuko lowered his hands and continued to drink from her cupped hands like a tamed animal, until he could sake his thirst. Katara waited patiently until he was finished, adding to the sphere until he drank his fill, then sipped thirstily at the water.

"That's taken care of," Katara said thoughtfully when they were finished. "Now what?" She helped Zuko to his feet.

"My uncle will be looking for us," he said. "We should just wait until he comes."

"And until then?" Katara wondered aloud. Zuko stepped toward one of the nearby palm trees, studying it carefully.

"We'll help him out, first of all," he said, sending a flaming punch at the trunk of the tree. The wood hissed for a moment, but quickly enough it caught fire, sending a pillar of smoke into the sky. Zuko made no mention of the violent protest of his sore limbs. "He'll see that," he assured Katara. "He'll come."

"And now we wait?"

"And now we wait."

After several hours, the fire slowly diminished and died, but the smoke signal remained. Zuko occupied himself by kneading Katara's shoulders, which were evidently still sore from swimming and bending. He sincerely believed that he was enjoying the experience more than she was. He relished in the feeling of her skin, his senses raced when he heard her contented sigh. Katara had suggested returning the favor, but he had reluctantly refused, his back too damaged to allow him any real pleasure from her soothing touch. And holding her was nothing short of bliss for him, and he had no intention of stopping until absolutely necessary. Katara seemed to share his sentiment.

Within a few short hours, a ship appeared on the horizon, drawn by the pillar of smoke. Both of the teenagers quickly recognized the vessel as Iroh's ship, with a mild mixture of relief and disappointment.

_What was I expecting?_ Zuko thought idly as he brushed his hand across Katara's cheek. _That we'd never be found? That we'd stay here forever?_

_It could happen.

* * *

_

It didn't take long for Iroh to arrive, nearly leaping down the ramp to his two young charges, several hairs bleached white from worry. He noticed that both of them were scantily clad, but he no longer cared, hugging them with fierce relief.

"Ah, I'm so glad you're alive!" he cried over and over again as he led them up the ramp, where the doctor rushed at them.

_Thank you,_ he whispered the silent prayer to whatever gods could hear him. _Thank you for keeping them safe._


	21. Paradise Won and Lost

Disclaimer: ...I don't own Avatar. And I formally beg the Zuko fan mob not to hurt me. Remember, our true enemies are Ozai and Zhou, and we will be conquering Nickelodeon. So we don't want to get carried away, do we now?

AN: Thank you all for 400+ reviews! That was so awesome! And thanks for answering the poll. The results are:

Epilogue: 11 votes

Sequel: 30 votes

Just let the story end: 4 votes

Never end the story: 7 votes

The verdict is that I will end the story, most likely at chapter 25, then write a sequel in a few weeks. I'll post the title when I think of it.

And I formally apologize to those people who thought the last chapter was the end (though that would be a good place to end it). As I mentioned above, I've got a few more chapters left for this fic, so bear with me. Though I have a feeling that this chapter's title implies that.

And, last of all, go ahead and check my Profile every so often. I post stuff up there that you might find interesting, and it doesn't just have my favorite flavor of ice cream or whatever. There is relevant stuff there.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Paradise Won and Lost**

Katara sat back as Doctor Rai tended to the numerous cuts that flecked her skin. The debris that had pelted her during the storm hadn't left her unscathed, though her injuries had gone unnoticed at the time. She wanted him to hurry; Zuko needed Doctor Rai's attention far more than she did, though the Exiled Prince had insisted mulishly that she should be treated first. Quickly enough, however, the doctor finished with Katara and began to tend to Zuko's wounds.

These were thankfully light—exhaustion, over-exertion, intense bruising along his back and shoulders, a sprained wrist, and a concussion, but nothing fatal or permanent. It was counted as a blessing.

Iroh had a massive dinner prepared for them, which went greatly appreciated. Even Iroh had been unable to eat since Zuko and Katara had washed overboard, as the old man had been too worried to spare himself any appetite.

That fact was quickly amended.

Katara took her bath, cleansing her skin of the salt and sand and dried blood and the medley of foreign things that had gathered on her skin and in her hair during the ordeal. The ragged remains of her clothes were discarded, replaced by a fresh, clean, warm robe that settled on her battered form like heaven itself.

"Katara," she heard Zuko say quietly, meeting her as she walked down the hall later, and she eagerly turned all of her attention to him. The shock of nearly losing him had still not entirely faded, and she still walked with an ebbing fear that he would stop breathing again and die, this time not returning to her. But there was something odd about him. Something in his voice that caught her interest, something she wasn't used to hearing from him. Was it...remorse? In all of his life, had Zuko ever regretted anything? His unfaltering confidence said not.

"I'm sorry for bringing you into all of this," he said, his voice remaining soft and low.

_An apology. Oh_. It suddenly occurred to Katara that she had never heard him apologize before. She smiled and shook her head.

"It wasn't your fault," she said lightly. "You told me to stay below deck. I just didn't listen. I'm the one who should be apologizing." Zuko's eyes locked on hers, silencing her completely.

"That...that's not what I'm talking about," he said. He didn't elaborate. And Katara didn't ask him to.

* * *

Zuko watched Katara idly as she studied the rhinos. They had never seemed particularly interesting to him, but she was fascinated. Evidently, she had never seen a rhino outside of battle. 

"Am I allowed to touch them?" she asked. Zuko shrugged, though his senses went on alert.

"If you want to. But be careful. They tend to be... petulant." Katara offered him a playful smile and gingerly reached out, her fingers barely grazing the bumpy skin of one of the beasts. The rhino snorted and tossed its head, its long, spearlike horns slashing at the air. Katara gasped in surprise as the weapons grazed the space where she had been standing a moment before. But in that instant Zuko had grabbed her out of harm's way, and now he held her flush against his chest.

"I told you," he said smugly into her ear. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"All right," she challenged, a childish lilt in her voice. "Show me how, then."

"Gladly," he said. He stepped forward, one arm still looped around Katara's waist, keeping her close. He whistled a few notes, and the rhino stilled, turning its head to study the two humans with one black eye.

"They frighten easily," he explained softly before whistling a few more notes to the creature. "You have to let them know you're coming." He guided Katara closer than they had been before, to the rhino's shoulder, out of reach of the deadly horns. He put his free hand on her shoulder, sliding it down her arm until it lay on her hand. He drew her hand up, firmly running her palm across the rhino's shoulder. The animal groaned contentedly and leaned into the rub.

"They have to know you're there. That you're not afraid. They can smell nervousness, Katara," he pointed out, seriously enjoying the lesson. "You have to be sure. You have to know what you want."

* * *

The rhino had lost interest in them and returned its attention to the trough of hay that stood at its feet. Another rhino approached and joined it, walking carefully so as to not brush its companion with its horns. Katara smiled down at the creatures as they began munching lazily at their meal. Komodo rhinos looked so fierce. And by all means, they were difficult to approach. But as strange and frightening as they appeared, they were gentle, even sweet. She leaned further into Zuko's touch. 

"And what do you want?" she asked. Zuko chuckled softly and buried his face in her neck, warming her skin with his hot breath.

"Did you have to ask?" he said smoothly. Katara took a steadying breath.

_No need to get worked up. I know what he's going to say. He wants to catch Aang. He wants to see his father again. He wants his honor and his throne back. I already knew all of that. So why in the world did I ask him?_

"I want you," he said finally.

Katara's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened and she turned her head to look at him. She had misheard. Misunderstood. She was dreaming. She opened her mouth to question him, to find out what he had really meant, to rebuke him for teasing her...

But a sweet, warm kiss covered her lips, silencing her unspoken words. Katara slowly turned to face him, tracing his face with her fingers. She wanted so badly to kiss him back like she had done before. But there was something she had to find out first. Slowly, reluctantly, their lips parted, and he tenderly rested his forehead on hers.

"Is...is there anything else? Anything you want?" Katara asked. Zuko captured her with his ardent stare, holding her still as a gentle smile flickered across his lips.

"Yes," he said languidly. "There is. I want you to stay. Here, with me, forever. I want to hold you without the trepidation that you'll pull back. I want you to marry me, to be with me, to grow old with me. And I don't want you to ever leave me." His hand left hers and rose to smooth her hair. "Can you give that to me, Katara?" he breathed.

Katara held his gaze, kept is golden eyes locked on hers as she searched them. She found only hope. Sincerity. And absolute, undying love. She opened her mouth, but breath escaped her lungs, leaving her mute.

This was no joke. No lie. What he wanted from her, what he asked of her...

It was mind numbing. It was impossible. It was insane.

It was all true.

"Yes," she whispered at last, laying a tender kiss on Zuko's lips. Everything was right. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the opposition between fire and water. Not the stupid war. Not Zuko's rank. Not his exile. Not even the fact that they were kissing in a rhino stable at the bottom of the ship.

* * *

They walked down the hallway in a comfortable silence, both of them pondering their earlier conversation. Zuko smoothed his vest, once more at his accustomed distance from Katara, though even that proximity was soothing. But something was bothering him. A prickling on the back of his neck, a dull throb in his cheek, buried in the skin of his scar. Something was wrong. Something was coming. 

The ship slowed, then lurched suddenly to the side. The dark foreboding was growing, unsettling him.

"Why are we stopping?" Katara asked softly. The unease in her voice told that she had felt the same premonition.

"I'm not sure," Zuko told her. He glanced over his shoulder, keeping his face neutral. "But I'm going to find out. Stay in your room until I get back, okay? And...lock the door." Katara looked uncertain for an instant, but at last she nodded and retreated to her room.

"Come back for me," she said, a light joke that struggled to be heard against the suddenly heavy mood.

"I will," Zuko promised before he turned and jogged up the ramp. His entire body went rigid as he stepped out of the hatch, into the garish sunlight.

And into the sight of two dozen Fire Navy warships.

Uncle Iroh was speaking to Zhao a few dozen feet away. Iroh's voice was low, but his tone was dangerous. Threatening. Zuko retreated a step.

_What's he doing here?_ He screamed inside his head. _I have to get back. I can't let him near Katara._

"Well, well, the Banished Prince. So you show your face at last?" Zhao smirked, stepping away from the retired general. "Decided to come out of hiding, have you?" Zuko glared at him, not moving from the frame of the hatch.

"I'm not hiding from anyone," he growled.

"Leave, Zhao. This will not be overlooked by--" Zhao ignored him, continuing his approach.

"Is that so?" the man mused. "Then you won't mind if I have my men search this ship," he waved his hand, and a dozen masked soldiers approached.

"Leave. Now." Zuko hissed. "You have no business here, Zhao." Zhao seemed to find this very amusing.

"Of course not," he laughed. "But you see, it's _Admiral_ Zhao now. And resisting my orders is considered a crime against the Fire Nation. Or weren't you aware of that little detail?" he sneered. One of the soldiers grabbed Zuko by the shoulder and roughly pulled him from the doorway. "Search every room," Zhao ordered his men as they filed into the hatch. "The Avatar was brought on board this ship four weeks ago, and he's still on board. Find him!"

* * *

Katara sat on the edge of her bed, humming to distract her nerves. Something was wrong. Zuko had felt it too. But what? 

She suddenly laughed. _I've heard Sokka talk about his instincts, but I didn't think that I had them, too!_ Right about now, Sokka would be readying his weapons and adorning himself with war paint, ready to frighten off whatever danger was coming their way. Most likely, Zuko was doing the same thing.

Katara giggled. It was impossible to picture Zuko wearing war paint. All of the images that entered her mind were ridiculous, and they only feuled her giggles. But her laughter fell empty against the iron walls.

She heard several pairs of boots marching through the hallway outside her locked door, heard heavy thuds as one portal after another was wrenched open, and moments later slammed shut.

_What on earth is going on?_

"These are all empty," a stranger's voice barked outside her door.

"Search the Prince's room. You! Search the brig. We can't come back empty handed."

"Yes sir!" a third voice barked, and more booted feat marched away. But one of them stepped closer to her own door.

"What's in here?" a familiar voice demanded. She recognized it: a man named Zhao. She'd seen him at Avatar Roku's temple. And Zuko had mentioned him once. The two of them were fierce enemies.

"Nothing. It's just a spare room," she heard Carnu say. He was one of her friends, one of the sailors.

"Then _why_ is the door locked?" Zhao asked venomously.

"Because we're not using it," Carnu insisted.

"Very well. Then I want to see this with my own eyes. Open the door."

"I can't, sir..."

"Why not?"

"I don't have the key—urgh!" The cry was followed by a sick thud.

"Incompetent traitor," Zhao sneered. Katara watched with a horrified fascination as the metal around her doorknob began to glow red, to bubble and melt away. She backed against the wall.

_There's no place to run._ She darted to a trunk at the base of her bed, where her clothes were kept, and dug through it. _Yes_! She found her knife, still sharp and ready, and fastened it at her side. She grabbed a small statue off the ground and ducked behind the dressing screen just as the lock melted through.

The door burst open with a crash. Heavy footsteps entered the room. Katara held her breath, though she could do nothing to deaden the panicked beating of her heart.

The footsteps passed her bed, paused by the trunk of clothes. They turned to the door. Katara withheld a sigh of relief. The danger had passed.

Suddenly the screen was ripped away, the large figure of the man Zhao sneered down at her.

"Empty, hm?" he laughed coldly.

Katara shouted and slammed the statue down against the man's shoulder. With her other hand she drew her knife, slashing at the man's face.

But her defenses were in vain. The statue struck Zhao's armor harmlessly, and he grabbed her wrist, bending it back and away from his face. Katara beat at his arm with her free hand, struggling to escape her attacker. Meanwhile he tightened his grip on her wrist, twisting it until she thought it would break. Her face was contorted with pain, but she didn't stop struggling, didn't allow a whimper to escape her throat.

"I know you," Zhao smirked down at her. "You're the Avatar's little playmate, aren't you?"

"Aang's not here!" Katara shouted, sending her unrestrained fist at the man's jaw. He caught it with a laugh and gave it a sharp twist. Katara gasped, but didn't stop writhing and kicking at him, fighting to get free.

"No?" Zhao mused. "That's unfortunate for you." He released one of her hands and brought his fist down against the side of her head. Katara fell limp in his grip, completely unconscious.

* * *

Zuko looked up angrily. Zhao's men were beginning to file from the ship. The snake himself emerged from the hatch, smirking proudly, a few of his higher ranking men still lagged behind him, hidden in the shadows of the hallway. 

"I told you, he's not here," Zuko said. The admiral turned his heartless grin on the Prince.

"I know," he said, his voice dripping satisfaction. "But look what else I found crawling on your little boat." At that moment the last of Zhao's men emerged from the hatch. In his arms was Katara, oblivious to the world, a thin trickle of blood seeping down the side of her face. Zuko's eyes widened, his blood turned to ice. He cried out in rage and confusion and raced at the soldier.

"Restrain him," Zhao said coldly. Four men pounced on Zuko, holding him back. Zuko struggled like a wild beast, snarling, punching, clawing, kicking at the men who held him. But they didn't relax their grip. They held fast, keeping him helplessly away from Katara.

"Stop this, Zhao," Iroh said, adding more commands, more threats, but the younger man paid him no heed. Zuko still fought the men that held him.

"Let her go, Zhao!" he roared.

"I don't think I will," the vile man said with a laugh. "Why should I? She's the Avatar's little pet, isn't she? I think he'll be _quite_ motivated to come looking for her."

"No he won't! He left her here, you slimy—" he was cut off as Zhao struck him in the face. Zuko's eyes narrowed, his voice lowered to a deadly whisper.

"Take her from this ship and I will kill you."

"I'd like to see you try," Zhao smirked. Zuko hissed, blowing a shower of flames at him. But he diverted the attack with a fiery punch, before delivering a crippling blow to Zuko's abdomen. In the back of his awareness he could hear Iroh shouting at the men. "I'd like to see you try," he taunted again.

Zhao walked proudly across the ramp to the safety of his own ship, and was swiftly followed by his men and the unconscious girl. The last four soldiers threw Zuko to the floor and rushed to the ramp, trying to make it to their ship before the Banished Prince did. Zuko leaped to the ramp, a few inches behind the last of Zhao's men.

He would tear that stupid ship apart if he had to. He would save Katara. That was all that mattered. He had to rescue Katara.

And then he stopped. His eyes were wide in surprise. He stumbled back, his mind slowing as he fell.

_No! Katara! Please. Please, let me help Katara. I can't die here. Just let me get her back. Just let me live long enough to bring her back. Then you can take me away forever, Agni. Just wait until then. Please. Please..._ And finally his mind faded into darkness, just before his back hit the iron floor.

He lay there unmoving. Blood seeped across the black fabric of his vest, spilling from around the shaft of the arrow.

Red feathers at the end of the arrow's shaft trembled in the wind, mocking the lifeblood of the same color that flowed away beneath them.

Zuko did not rise.


	22. To Live

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Anything. At all. Except for this plot, which is all mine, curtosey of my muse (she came back! She's not dead anymore!)

AN: Finally finished Harry Potter. And I made a website. The URL is on my profile. And...well, I'm quite happy. But this chapter isn't. By the way, I highly appreciate all of those wonderful people who pleaded so desperately for Zuko's life in the last chapter. I love you all, and I'm sure he would have, too... (sniff...sob...) Read on, dear friends!

* * *

Chapter 22: To Be Alive

_One must Desire something to be Alive. _

_--Margaret Deland_

Katara woke up to darkness, her body cast thoughtlessly on an iron floor. The room rocked around her, though whether that was because of the shifting sea or her aching head, she couldn't be sure. She sat up gingerly and took inventory of herself.

There was a large bruise on the side of her head, ending in a cut, and dried blood painted a trail down her cheek and neck. Tender bruises encircled her wrists like shackles. She was stiff from sleeping on the ground in an awkward position, but she was otherwise unhurt.

The walls around her were solid iron, close and cramped, unilluminated by windows or firelight. By touch she explored them; they were bare, except for iron rings that protruded from three of the walls, holding thick, heavy chains that ended in shackles. On the fourth wall was a door, under which only a thin ribbon of light dared to venture.

It didn't take Katara long to figure out where she was. She remembered everything up to the point where Zhao had hit knocked her into darkness. She could see no means of escape. But that didn't mean that something wouldn't present itself.

So she would wait.

_Aang. Sokka. Zuko, _she thought, the memories of their faces giving her comfort. _I hope you're safe.

* * *

_

Prince Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai, the sixteen year old banished Prince of the Fire Nation, was dead.

His heart was still beating, his lungs still drew in breath, but he had not woken since he had been shot. And though his body still lived on, his spirit seemed to have disappeared completely, driven away by Zhao's spite.

"He was lucky," Doctor Rai offered. "The arrow missed his heart. He would have died had it landed an inch to the left."

"It had nothing to do with chance," Iroh said darkly, sitting at his nephew's side. He picked up the missile that had been drawn from Prince Zuko's chest. "I recognize this arrow; it belonged to a Yuyan archer. And they never miss, especially not at such a close target." He returned his gaze to Prince Zuko. "They meant to keep him alive."

"Why?" the doctor asked.

"That is the question," Iroh said quietly.

* * *

Zuko woke a few hours later, though his condition had improved very little. His uncle and the doctor urged him to move carefully, so he wouldn't reopen his wound. 

But what did they expect him to do? Leap from the deck and swim after Zhao's ship? Grow wings and fly to Katara's side?

_No_. As tempting as it sounded, it wouldn't work. Four soldiers was all it had taken to subdue him. To take Katara away. He hadn't been able to protect her. He hadn't been able to keep her safe.

_Come back for me!_

He bowed his head in shame and despair and anger. He should have come back to her room. He should have kept his promise to her.

_Please don't leave me again,_ she had begged him. He had promised. He rolled out of the infirmary bed as quietly as he could manage. His uncle was sleeping in a chair nearby. Uncle Iroh had offered him no relief until worried exhaustion lulled him into silence and stillness. Zuko looked sadly at the old man. He tried. He had taken him in, trained him, kept him from despair for two long years, tried to stop Zhao. But there was nothing Uncle Iroh could have done to help Katara, and there was nothing he could do to soothe Zuko now.

He stepped from the infirmary, shivering with cold, though the air was hot against his skin. The doors of the men's sleeping quarters gaped emptily, leering accusingly at him as he passed. At the end of the hall, next to his room, was the door to Katara's chamber. An ugly hole glared at him from the place where the doorknob should have been. The door had been locked. And it had done absolutely nothing to stop Zhao. Most likely, it had only caught his interest and provoked him into coming in after Katara.

Zuko stepped into the room. It hadn't been completely destroyed, to his surprise. The screen was laying haphazardly on the floor. One of the ridiculous potted plants had been knocked over. The trunk of clothes was open, its contents disturbed. On the floor by the screen was Katara's knife, cast uselessly aside.

_So she tried to defend herself,_ Zuko thought, a slight smile touching his eyes. _It's just like her._

He knelt and righted the screen without knowing why. With one hand he swept the spilled earth from the fallen plant and returned it to the pot, putting the plant back in the corner where it belonged. He stood and brushed the dirt from his hands and closed the trunk. The knife was placed on the bedside table. And, seeing nothing more that he could do, Zuko lay heavily in the bed, burying his face in the soft velvet of the pillow.

He breathed deep, Katara's scent surrounding him, calming him for a moment.

He turned his head, staring at the room around him. How many hours had he spent in here? Sitting on this bed, on the chair in the corner, leaning against the wall? How much of it was spent in conversation? How much in blissful silence? He could almost see Katara, sitting by his side, mending a tear in somebody's clothes, practicing Waterbending, talking about her brother and the Avatar,laughing as he made some random observation.

"I really am pathetic," he laughed bitterly.

_Was this what she felt?_ He thought suddenly. When the Avatar had been taken to the infirmary, nearly dead from a terrible fall, and Katara's health and spirit sank ever lower. She hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, had cried alone in the solitude of the moonlit deck, while he turned away, unable to help her, and unable to watch and do nothing.

He felt like slime.

_I abandoned her then and I'm abandoning her now._

_No. I didn't try hard enough. But that doesn't mean I didn't try._

So long ago, hehad finally lost his patience, and most likely, his mind. He had gone to her room after helping the men maneuver through a storm. The entire time, he had thought only of her. She had looked terrible. Hollow. Half dead. And she had turned him away when he tried to help, walking coldly past him.

He wasn't sure what had cut him deeper: seeing her suffer or hearing her refuse his aid. He had struggled to maintain his temper, not to shout at her. But even whispered, his words wounded her. He had seen it. And he wanted so desperately for her to forgive him. He had pulled her close to him, unable to form any words strong enough, while she cried into his shoulder, finally accepting his help. And, somehow, his apology as well.

He covered his face with the pillow again. He didn't want to see any more. He didn't want to remember, if it caused so much pain.

He wanted to hold her again. He wanted to keep her close and safe. He wanted her to embrace him and comfort him like only she could.

_I want a lot of things._

He sat up and straightened the sheets of Katara's bed, leaving no evidence that he had lain there. He left the room and closed the door behind him and made his way to the training room.

_Here's a promise I can keep, Zhao,_ he thought grimly, sending a kick into the empty air. _You took Katara away from me. And by Agni, I will kill you.

* * *

_

Katara stood as the ship began to slow and stop. She had been in that miserable dungeon for a long time.Her best guess decided that she had been a prisoner for about four days. Why had they stopped? Had they reached an island?

What would happen to her when they came to land?

The door of her cell opened, flooding her vision with painfully bright light. She squeezed her eyes shut against it, but the light still seeped through her eyelids, filling her sight with a terrible red glow. But she didn't shrink back. She maintained her dignity as one of her guards grabbed her arm, binding her arms and wrists together with rough rope and forcing her to walk from the room. She was dragged past dozens of hallways and rooms, until at last they pulled her through a heavy door, into blinding white sunlight. Katara's eyes watered, and she blinked rapidly, trying to readjust her vision to the bright day.

"My, my," crooned a voice like poisoned honey. "Tell me I didn't make the poor girl cry, now." Katara glared up at the silhouetted shape of Zhao, ignoring the pain it brought her.

"Why did you bring me here?" Katara said, keeping her voice even. The man smirked at her.

"I haven't brought you anywhere yet, little girl," he said. "You're in transit."

"Transit?" Katara repeated stupidly. Zhao raised one armored arm, gesturing to a tall, forbidding building that loomed in the distance.

"_That's_ where I'm bringing you." Katara had never seen the building before, but she didn't need to. She already recognized it, and swallowed, trying not to let the man see her fear.

It was a prison.

"You didn't answer my question," she pointed out, her voice still deceptively cold. "Why are you bringing me there? I haven't broken any of your laws."

"Traveling with the Avatar without turning him in to the authorities," Zhou listed lazily. "Stealing from Fire Nation citizens. Disobedience against the orders of Fire Nation soldiers. Willful destruction of Fire Nation buildings, and other property. Inciting rebellion among prisoners of war. Now tell me, girl. Which laws _haven't_ you broken?"

"That's not the reason, though. Is it?" Katara pressed. "You want something else out of all this." Zhou struck her face, only hard enough to make her recoil.

"What a clever girl you are," he mused dryly. With another command, Katara was roughly pulled down a ramp and thrown into the back of some kind of transport cart, surrounded by more than a dozen Fire Nation soldiers. The cart creaked into motion and, taking them all closer to the prison that waited to swallow her whole.

* * *

"You are pushing yourself too hard, Prince Zuko," Iroh observed. 

"Not hard enough," Zuko panted, throwing a barrage of punches across the practice room. He still moved like a dead man, swift and graceful, but unfeeling, driven by nothing but one final, irresistible need. Iroh watched his nephew with horror and fascination, half afraid that if the boy achieved what he desired, he would fall, lifeless, to the floor.

"You are going to open that hole in your chest again," the old man argued.

"I don't care."

"Please, Prince Zuko. I don't want you to hurt yourself. I won't be able to watch over you for a while, and-" This caught Zuko's attention. He lowered his fist and stared quizzically at Iroh.

"What?"

"I'll be going away for some time, and-"

"You're leaving, uncle?" In Zuko's voice was confusion and strange disappointment. His uncle hadn't left him alone for more than a few hours in more than two years.

"As soon as possible," Iroh said gravely. "I will come back as quickly as I can. But for the moment, I will need all haste."

"What's going on?"

"I'm going to try to speak to my brother. To talk sense into him. If Ozai can be convinced to grant Katara a pardon, then Zhao will have no choice but to release her." Zuko nodded, though he felt suddenly numb. A spark of hope flickered to life somewhere inside him.

"I'll come too," he said, suddenly childlike. Iroh smiled sadly at his nephew.

"I'm afraid not, Prince Zuko," he said, a weary fondness clouding his voice. "Have you forgotten? You were banished from the Fire Nation. And disobeying your father's orders would do no good for our case. You will have to stay."

"But uncle!"

"No, Prince Zuko. We cannot afford to be rash. Not now. Not if you wish to see Katara again. You must stay here."

A battle raged within Zuko. He wanted so badly to go after Katara, to punish Zhao for what he did. But despite the defiance that surged in every fiber of his being, he could find no argument against his uncle's logic.

"Very well," he said at last.

"I will send you news as soon as I can," Iroh said.

"Thank you. And hurry, uncle."

Iroh was gone before the end of the the hour.


	23. My Fall Will Be For You

Disclaimer: At no point in my life have I ever owned Avatar.

AN: Thank you for all the reviews. Rachel, this is dedicated to you.

* * *

**Chapter 23: My Fall Will Be For You**

_My Fall will be for you_

_My Love will be in you_

_If you be the one to_

_Cut me I'll bleed forever..._

_--Nightwish, 'Ghost Love Score'_

Katara was thrown roughly onto a stony floor. One of the guards stepped forward and carelessly severed the ropes that tied her, his knife cutting into her skin. She winced and tried to sit up, but a heavy boot came down against her chest, sending her into the floor, gasping for breath, as the guards gathered the rope and left the cell.

A sharp click announced that the heavy door was locked.

Katara didn't move for a moment, regaining her breath and her faculties. She couldn't give up. Not yet.

On one of the walls was an iron barred window. That was good. _Better than before, anyway_. The door wasn't solid, but held a second, tiny window, also barred, just at eye level. Most likely used for interrogation and gloating over the prisoners.

The latter was proved when a sickeningly familiar shadow clouded the light that seeped from the opening.

"Comfortable?" Zhao sneered.

"Very," Katara said, her voice dripping with defiant sarcasm.

"What a pity."

"Why did you bring me here?" she demanded again.

"That doesn't matter, little girl. There is no escape from this place. You will die here."

Katara told him where he could go. The man laughed cruelly.

"Is that so? You can dwell on this while you rot, then: your precious Banished Prince was quite unhappy to watch you go. Quite unhappy indeed. In fact, I'm sure he'll come around any day now to try and _rescue_ you." Katara stared up at him. The delight in his voice was ominous, and she took no comfort in his mocking words. "And when he does, he'll be defying his own dear father's orders. He'll break his exile and come running to this very building. But he won't leave alive."

"What do you mean?" Katara asked, her defiance faltering. She didn't want to believe what she was hearing. She couldn't believe it.

"I think I'll let you come out to see it," he mused. "When he comes for you, I'll have him arrested. And then I'll see that he is executed. Decapitation is such a fitting death for a traitor, don't you agree?"

"No," Katara breathed, her eyes widening with horror and disbelief. "No, you can't do that. You can't! Why would—" She was silenced by a tongue of flame that shot through the spy hole, licking at her skin. She scrambled to her feet and flattened herself against the wall, out of reach of the fire.

"And your friend the Avatar will receive the same. But he won't be executed, of course. That would be a waste. A guest as rare as he will be a delight to torture."

Katara said nothing as he left, still laughing.

_So you plan to use me as bait?_

_It won't work. Zuko won't come here. He won't fall for your trick. Aang, too. He and Sokka are up at the North Pole. They won't know anything about this for a while. And..._

_And what?_

_And when they do find out, what will happen? Or am I supposed to just pray that they never hear about me? Maybe the news won't spread and they won't find out. And..._ She was reminded again of the thought that had brushed her mind for days.

_What will happen to me? Am I just going to rot in a jail cell? Zuko's too smart to try and come for me. He'll be able to take care of himself..._

Somehow, that much didn't sound like him. Just because he could stand back and let her suffer, didn't mean that he would. Memories swam in front of her eyes, of Zuko fighting Sokka, making up outrageous stories to clear her name, then paying for her reputation with bruises and broken bones. She saw Zuko racing to her aid in Port Sechi, fighting off the dozen thugs that threatened to hurt her. She saw Zuko grab her in storm tossed waters, saving her from the crushing iron blows of the unforgiving waves.

If anything was sure, it was that Zuko would see right through Zhao's trap. And he wouldn't hesitate in coming anyway.

* * *

_Stay here_. 

The words ran through his mind like poison.

_Stay here_.

Zuko shot another barrage of flames across the room. He felt helpless, and that infuriated him.

_Why are you still training?_ A cruel voice in the back of his head asked. _You already know you can't run out and save her. Do you think that a few punches and kicks are going to help her return? Do you think they'll make your father listen? She's not coming back._

_Uncle Iroh will bring her back,_ he argued venomously, sending even more fires into the room. The flames ate away at the air in the chamber, making him dizzy and lightheaded. He felt intoxicated, and welcomed the distraction, kicking at the air again and again. _I'm going to get stronger. I won't let anyone take her away from me. I'll never fail her again. I won't. I won't._

_Won't you? It took four men that time. What difference will it make if there are six? Ten? Twenty? You can't protect her from the world. You can't protect her from anything._

_I will. I have to. I'll kill Zhao when I see him again. I'll keep her safe from him. And I'll keep training. A hundred men won't be able to hold me back. An army won't be able to take her away again._

_Of course not. Because your uncle won't be able to bring her back to you. Or have you forgotten who he's dealing with? Your _father_. The man who gave you that scar. Because you wanted to spare a few young men. Do you seriously think he'll show mercy to one girl? Do you think you can succeed with what you're planning? You'll never be strong enough to fight off a hundred men. You can't even outfight one child Airbender. You are useless to Katara and you are useless to your father._

_Shut. Up._ Zuko staggered. The smoke from his attacks was becoming too much. It was stifling him, smothering him. He stumbled to one of the windows, opening it wide. He sucked at the clean, cool air that waited outside the room, reluctant to mingle with the hot, angry smoke.

_Katara_... She was as pure and sweet as that air. He needed her like he needed to breathe.

_But she doesn't need you. All you can do is hurt her, bring her grief. You have only ever hurt her._ He tossed his head and opened another window, and another. His uncle had been gone for days. He should have reached the Fire Nation by now. Any day, he would speak to Zuko's father, have Katara pardoned, bring her back.

_Everything will work out._

* * *

It was raining. 

Katara froze as she heard footsteps in the hall outside her cell. One of the guards glanced in the window suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. Katara shrugged her wet shoulders.

"You people don't let me bathe. And I'm not going to just sit here covered with dirt for the rest of my life." The guard rolled his eyes.

"Women," he grumbled.

"Men," Katara countered. She still stood in the thin curtain of rain that entered through the window, stepping out only when the guard left, muttering to himself. Katara bent more water into the room, and into a large puddle at her feet. The effort was exhausting, but hopefully, it would be worth it.

She had waited days for a good rainstorm. Evidently, they were rare in the Fire Nation, most likely making the region more appealing to the Firebenders that lived there. But that didn't matter.

She had seen only one solution to her dilemma: she would have to escape on her own. How exactly she intended to accomplish this feat was still in various stages of development, but it was enough for the moment. If she could get away, get to Zuko before he broke the law, there would be no danger. He would be safe.

_Everything will work out._

* * *

Zuko was alone as he paced the deck of the ship. The crew had learned quickly to avoid him. Any interference with his feverish worry resulted in shouted threats from the young Prince. But the men were growing worried as well. They too had grown attached to the girl, and enjoyed the kinder edge to Zuko's moods. But as much as they could sympathize with his loss and frustration, they dared not speak or support him. His temper was simply too dangerous. Only Katara's return could possibly restore him. 

Zuko froze, his eyes locked on a dark speck in the sky. His entire body tensed as the red shape of a Fire Nation hawk spiraled down, down...

It landed on the railing, and Zuko nearly pounced on the bird, tearing the scroll from the pouch on its back. He eagerly read through the message.

Blinking in confusion, he looked it over again. And again.

The bird flapped its wings impatiently and returned to the sky. Zuko took no notice. He still studied the paper scroll in disbelief.

It was addressed to Lieutenant Jee. Only five other words darkened the paper.

_Keep an eye on him._

Zuko let the scroll fall to the ground, smoldering slightly where it touched his fingers.

Iroh had failed.

He made no sound as he turned and walked off the deck. He was as stiff as a corpse as he walked into Katara's room and closed the door quietly behind him. His eyes fell on the rose that stood on the bedside table. He had tended to it for the last week, but the flower had withered. Died in his clumsy care. The once velvet petals were now cracked, hard, and as dark as dried blood.

He turned away, dark thoughts entering his mind.

He didn't weep.

He didn't shout.

He didn't die.

He just breathed. He stood absolutely still except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. He wasn't sure what else he could do.

"I'm sorry, Katara."

* * *

"Hey, could I get a mop in here?" Katara called as the next guard passed her door. 

"What?" he popped his face in front of the little window, confusion etched into his features.

"The floor's all wet. It's not exactly comfortable."

"You're in prison. You're not supposed to _be_ comfortable."

"Can I have a towel, then?"

"No."

"Come on! Please? I think I'm gonna get a fever or something."

"That would be the point." The guard rolled his eyes.

"But it's really cold!" Katara protested, sneezing pathetically. "And you're using me as a hostage, remember? I can't be much of a hostage if I die of a cold." The guard looked at her sceptically and moved away, grumbling something about women and unnecessary bathing.

He returned a few minutes later, a mop in one hand and the key to her cell in the other. He was still grumbling.

"I hope you get a fever," he muttered, unlocking the door and slipping inside.

He didn't expect the water whip that rose from the puddle in the corner and struck him into the wall. Nor did he expect the jet of water that rushed into his mouth, silencing him as he struggled. Katara grabbed the mop from the man's hand and struck him across the head. He fell to the ground, unconscious and limp. Silently she took the key from the man's hand,as well as a small sack of money from his belt. That would come in handy. Silently she crept from her cell, locking the door behind her.

* * *

Two shadows dashed across a thin gap to the open window of the Fire Nation ship. They climbed into what appeared to be a training hall, though it had been put through heavy abuse: the walls were scorched with streaks of black, and ripples in the otherwise smooth sides of the room implied that they had been partially melted. The two figures exchanged glances and passed from the room into a long hallway. Together they searched the brig, the galley, the bath, always unsatisfied. They ducked into one of the rooms as one of the ship's men passed. 

"Are you sure this is the right ship?" the shorter one asked, puzzled. His comrade blinked.

"Positive. But this stuff wasn't here last time..." He plucked at an indigo blanket, allowing the fine silk to run between his fingers.

"Any other guesses to where she could be?"the shorter one asked. The other grimaced and nodded. There was one last place, but he didn't really want to think of her in it.

"This way," he muttered, opening the door. He realized suddenly that the door had been partially melted through...

His blood turned to ice. There were at least a dozen explanations to this, and all of them flashed through his mind in an instant. None of them were good.

He led his companion to the closest room. Silently he opened the door, raising his knife.

A hideously familiar figure stood nearby, his back turned to the two intruders.

Without thought or warning, the taller of the two raced forward, slashing at the man, his entire body pulsing with fury.

A sharp clang sounded as the knife was blocked by a long, curved sword. The man glanced coldly over his shoulder at his attacker, his grip on the sword unwavering, his expression unsurprised.

"Save your bloodlust for later, Sokka," he said quietly. "I'm not ready to die yet."

"That's what you think, you _snake_!" Sokka snarled as he drew his boomerang, bringing it down against his opponent's shoulder. Another clang announced the presence of a second sword as it blocked the new assault.

"Release Katara, Zuko," the short boy commanded. Zuko cast a cold glance at him and threw Sokka aside.

"Save your breath, Avatar. She's not here." He sheathed the swords in his belt and resumed placing things into a small pack. Sokka leaped to his feet.

"What do you mean 'she's not here?'" he demanded. The Prince didn't look up.

"Exactly what I said. She's not on the ship."

"_What did you do to her_?" Sokka snarled, laying his knife across Zuko's throat. The Prince didn't flinch as it bit into his skin, summoning a thin line of blood.

"I didn't do anything," he said softly. Aang studied him carefully. The tone of his enemy's voice was strange. Cold, but veined with...was it guilt? He stepped closer.

"Then who did?" he asked. "What happened to Katara?" Zuko finally lowered the bag. He looked away from his interrogators.

"Zhao came. And he took her away from me."

"What?" Sokka breathed.

"Stop gasping like an idiot." Zuko said coldly. "I'm going to bring her back. Then she can go back to the two of you and she'll never have to see me or hear me or think about me again. Or better yet, you can just kill me then. But let me bring her back first." He closed the bag and slung it over his shoulder, walking past Sokka and Aang as though they were shadows.

"Why should I?" Sokka challenged. "You're nothing but a spineless, lying manipulator. You can't help her. You couldn't even keep Katara safe from that idiot general. Why should I trust you to bring her back?" Zuko froze in his tracks, his entire body completely rigid.

"Why?" he breathed, his voice so low it was barely audible. "Because I'm hopelessly in love with your sister. And I'd rather never see her again than keep putting her into danger."

"Stop toying with me, you sick freak!" Sokka hissed. "I'm serious!"

"Sokka?" Aang said. His eyes hadn't left the Prince. "I think he is, too."

* * *

Katara seriously considered releasing the other prisoners and starting a massive jail break. 

Then she set eyes on one of her inmates.

He was a ragged man, cheerfully muttering obscene things to himself involving people he'd killed and women he'd raped, clawing at his skin and licking up the blood that flowed from the cuts. Katara grimaced and backed away.

_Okay...maybe some of the prisoners actually need to be here._ She pocketed the key and stalked silently down the hall. The guard wouldn't wake for a quarter hour at least, but she would have no guarantee of more time. When he woke, he would most likely start yelling, and then it would be realized that she was gone. She would have to hurry.

Keeping to the shadows, she raced away from her cell. She had no idea where she was going, but uncertainty didn't slow her pace. She dashed across dozens of hallways, down flights of stairs, until she reached a wide, open yard, filled to the brim with marching and training soldiers. And out in the distance, she saw a massive gate, shut forbiddingly against intrusion or escape.

She ducked into the shadows behind an unlocked door just as the shouting started. In an instant the soldiers scattered and ran like ants, searching for their escaped prisoner. Katara flattened herself against a wall, praying to all the gods above that she wouldn't be found.


	24. One Last Chance

Disclaimer: I own this plot, but none of the characters, creatures, settings, etc. Until the Zuko Fan Mob helps me take over Nickelodeon, of course. And you can go to my website to officially join the Mob.

AN: Yep. Ruthless self advertising. The link to the site is on my profile. (freewebs . com / masakomoonshade). It's in the extras section. And why am I telling you this? You really don't care. You want to read the story. So I shall let you read.

* * *

Chapter 24: One Last Chance

_I want you._

Katara closed her eyes, tried not to breathe too loudly when soldiers passed. They had kept up the search for hours. Sooner or later they would have to give up on finding her.

_I want you to stay. Here, with me, forever_.

She held her breath. One of the soldiers had come dangerously close to her. The man looked around, shrugged, and walked away.

_I want to hold you without the trepidation that you'll pull back._

She swore never to pull away from him again. When she saw him again she would run into his arms and never leave him.

_I want you to marry me._

She blinked back tears. He'd meant that. He had honestly wanted... She could have been with him forever. She could have lived on that ship with him and Iroh and the crew until the day she died. She could have...

_I will. I'll get out of this forsaken hole and I'll come back to him. And he won't die, and we'll be married, and do everything else we planned to do. I'll never be apart from him again and..._

A tear escaped her traitorous eyes and sank down her cheek. She wiped it angrily away and climbed out from behind the barrels. The acrid scent of blasting jelly clung to her, making her grimace.

_I smell like those guards now,_ she thought, and froze.

_That's it!_ She turned, silently reexamining the contents of the small supply room she had been hiding in.

_How did I miss it before?_ Suits of armor were suspended from one wall. They were too sparse to hide behind, but not to hide _within_. She picked one of the smaller suits and pulled it from the wall, staggering back under its weight.

_How do people get these things on? _She wondered, struggling to fit the steel frame over her shoulders.

An hour later she was leaning heavily against the barrels, sweating and exhausted, but triumphantly wearing the armor. The final touch was a Fire Nation helmet, complete with its signature mask, hiding her face and telltale dark skin. Across her waist she fastened a new belt, complete with weapons, and pocketed the coin purse from her guard.

Thinking that trial complete, she tried walking.

Her foot came down like a lead plummet. She staggered to the side, overbalanced, and went sprawling.

_How did you fight in this kind of thing, Zuko?_ She thought fondly. _How did you even move? _She chuckled breathlessly, trying to scrape herself off the floor and regain her feet.

Practice, was the simple answer. Finally standing again, she took another step, keeping her hand on the wall to steady herself. And another. And another. She paced the room, slowly growing used to the weight of the armor, steadily adjusting to the constant pressure on her shoulders and head.

One of the guards burst into the room, and Katara almost fell back again, but she managed to maintain her composure.

"We already searched this room," the guard said. Katara realized almost too late that the helmet shielded her face, hiding her startled expression as well as her identity. The guard misunderstood her silence. "And report to the infirmary. You look terrible." Katara nodded weakly and the man left the room, and she followed shortly after, stepping with frail confidence into the open air. Her nerves were on edge, and she constantly expected any of the hundreds of soldiers to grab her suddenly, recognizing her as an impostor.

"Hey you!" an unfamiliar voice barked, grabbing Katara by the shoulder and roughly turning her. Katara's heart nearly stopped. "Go help with the supply carts. Now!" He released her and walked away, trying to bring order to the rushing men, muttering to himself. Katara distinctly caught the words 'Admiral Zhao' and 'frivolous vanity quests' and 'waste of time'. She personally whispered prayers of gratitude as she blindly followed the man's instruction, jogging to what she assumed were the supply carts. A plan was finally beginning to form in her mind.

* * *

Zuko resisted the temptation to look down as he sat in the flying bison's saddle. 

_I can handle a storm tossed ship. I can handle an angry rhino. Of course I can handle a giant flying monster._ Almost as soon as he had climbed onto the beast, it lurched into motion. But it was nothing like the slow, even movement of a ship. The creature whipped forward at suicidal speeds, constantly rising and falling as though it would plunge out of the sky at any moment. Zuko felt himself buffeted by a fierce wind that tore at his skin and bellowed into his ears. As subtly as was humanly possible, he flattened himself against the back of the giant saddle, focusing his stinging eyes on the quickly approaching shore. Sitting on the creature's _head_, conversing heatedly with one another, were the Avatar and Katara's brother. Their badly disguised glances at him were enough indication that they were talking about him. The few words that the wind whipped into his ears gave him full confirmation, though too much of their conversation was lost to the roaring gale to determine their conclusion.

But Zuko could guess. They had been less than cheerful about letting him come, but he had convinced them that they needed his help, that he actually knew where Katara was, and that his knowledge would be useful. Having to barter for a chance to help came as a major blow to his pride, but he had little other choice: his uncle had left with the only boat, and though he was fully prepared to swim to Katara's rescue, riding the flying bison had been far more practical.

And as far as Zuko was concerned, he had no more pride. Only promises. The promise that he would kill Zhao. That he would free Katara.

He winced.

Yes. As soon as she was rescued from her durance, she would be truly free. She would have no forced promises, no seduction, no pity to bind her to him. She would be free to return to her brother and her dear friend and live the rest of her life happily.

And he would never see her again.

_It's for the best,_ he told himself. _If I can't protect her, then I don't deserve her. And I can keep going. I'll find a way to be satisfied with that. As long as she's happy._

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, allowing himself to grow used to the choppy rhythm of the bison's flight before he ventured from the safety of the saddle. The bison's thick fur made walking difficult, but his feet sank deep into it, defending against the wind that still whipped at him. Defiantly he stepped up the creature's mammoth neck, within a few feet of the Avatar and his companion.

"How much farther?" he asked, trying to keep his voice and face neutral. The boy Sokka glanced back at him, his expression devoid of trust or any form of friendliness.

"A couple more hours," he said stiffly, returning his attention to the Avatar.

"Good," Zuko said, padding back to his spot on the saddle.

* * *

"Blasted rhino!" one of the soldiers shouted. Katara noted that the soldier's voice was rather high, but she brushed the fact aside, watching in interest as he dashed away to avoid the beast's long horns. "Where are the people who usually deal with these pests?" the soldier hissed through his mask, backing resentfully away. 

"They're taking their break," another soldier said.

"Well, if you're so informed, _you_ make this beast move!" the first soldier snapped. His companion put his hands up as though to ward off an attack.

"Hey, I don't know anything about these-" He was silenced by a long, muffled whistle. Katara stepped forward, steadily approaching the rhino. It had stilled at the tune, watching her with a wary eye.

_They frighten easily. You have to let them know you're coming._ The warning was well received, and the rhino made no attempt to struggle as she stepped behind its head, smoothing a twist in its bridle with one hand as she rubbed it with the other.

_They have to know you're there. That you're not afraid. They can smell nervousness, Katara._

Katara wasn't afraid. All of her mind was focused on the task at hand, and the memory of Zuko's touch as he gave her that invaluable lesson.

_You have to be sure. You have to know what you want._

_I want to get out of here. I want to see Zuko again. I want to keep him safe. And you are going to help me do that,_ she thought at the rhino. It blinked at her with one large eye, as though it had understood. Katara smiled behind her mask and stopped whistling.

"It's about time they sent somebody over here," the first soldier said impatiently. Katara glanced at him, but didn't speak.

"Keep that thing from going wild, will you? We need to finish loading the supplies." Katara nodded to the second soldier, the calmer one, and returned to stroking the rhino's shoulder.

"Are you coming with us?" the temperamental soldier asked warily, glancing at the aggravated creature. Katara nodded.

"Then get on!" he ordered, gesturing irritably to the seat at the front of the cart. The reigns were in his hands, and thankfully enough, he was the one who commanded the rhino when Katara had taken her place.

"Blasted rhinos," the soldier muttered. Katara shrugged as the cart lurched into motion.

"And what about you? Are you mute or something?" he demanded. Katara felt a dread pass over her, but she forced it aside.

"No..." she said, deepening her voice purposefully.

"Well, you're quiet enough to be," the soldier snapped. "You're new?"

"Yes," Katara said, trying to maintain the low tone.

"Just drafted, then. Pity." The cart stopped at the gate, and several soldiers came forward, searching the cart for a stowaway. Katara's heart began to race, she felt the sudden need to leap from them, to run away, but she swallowed the urge, staying casually still. After what seemed like an eternity, one of the guards told them to go ahead, and they were clear of the wall.

Katara's heartbeat continued to pound painfully against her chest, but as much from elation as from from fear. She had escaped. She was free. All she had to do now was get away from the cart, get to some nearby port without getting caught, and find Zuko before he did something stupid.

Not a problem.

"It's about time they let us through," the soldier beside her grunted, pulling off his masked helmet.

Katara nearly cried out in shock.

The soldier beside her had cropped hair and hardened eyes, but had the unmistakable face of a woman.

"Blaze, those checkpoints are annoying," she continued, as though nothing had happened. "Almost as bad as these stupid helmets."

"Put it back on, Nari," the other soldier said idly from the back of the cart. Evidently, he was used to his companion's behavior. "You know what the order is."

"I know what it is!" Nari snapped irritably. "That doesn't mean I have to-"

"Yes, it does. The Fire Lord's word is Law. And he says that 'there-'"

"_'There is nothing intimidating in the face of a woman.'_ Do you think I don't know by now? But in case you haven't noticed, Haitu, we're not exactly in the heat of battle at the moment. We're out in the middle of nowhere, behind a stinking rhino, dragging a cart of supplies. And I don't see any rebels running around, or anyone to not be intimidated by my _sweet, harmless woman's face!_" She ended the monologue with a snarl, spitting irritably to the side. "Obviously, nobody in the army has ever laid eyes on my mother," she muttered.

Katara silently rebuked herself for being so sexist. _I'm as bad as Sokka,_ she thought with a trace of amusement. Of course there were women in the army! It was common knowledge that all Firebenders were immediately drafted into the Fire Lord's command. And being a Waterbender herself, she had no right to believe that there were somehow no female Firebenders. Or that those who were would be kept safe from the war. But, most likely as the Fire Lord had predicted, the masks and heavy armor did effectively disguise any trace of femininity. Whether this made things any easier or harder for Katara remained to be seen. She was still too close to the prison toescape just yet.

* * *

"That one. The tower," Zuko said, drawing himself to his feet once more. "That's where she'll be. 

"All right," Sokka said, his muscles tensing uneasily. "We'd better go higher, Aang."

"No," Zuko protested. "We need to land."

"What?"

"Your bison is too obvious. If we just fly right in, we won't stand a chance. We need to be more subtle." Sokka shot him an agitated glare.

"And you've got a better way, then?"

"I'll find one." Aang glanced up at him uneasily, but reigned Appa to land. If Katara trusted the Prince, then so could he.


	25. Exodus and Trespass

Disclaimer: I have said it again and again. I own nothing. Why must you torment me with this? But, alas, I shall say it again. And again. Until the day the world ends, andthe writers on Nick actuallymakeZutara a real couple: I don't own Avatar.

AN: This is, alas, the last chapter of Everything For A Price. However, I've already started working on a sequel (so please lower your weapons!) and will have its first chapter posted within three days. Unless I think up a better title by then, it will be called 'Worth Fighting For.'

I'm also working on another story on Fictionpress, titled 'Moonshade'. Ruthless plug, I know, but if you have a thing for our favorite hotheaded prince, you may enjoy it. Or you may think that it's complete garbage. Either way, it's written, posted, and so is this. So, without further shameless advertising, here it is, what you have been waiting for, and what you have endured twenty four long chapters to reach:

* * *

**Chapter 25: Exodus and Trespass**

Katara was in a half doze when the cart stopped. She was blinking wearily, regaining her faculties, when she heard an all too familiar voice.

"You had no permission to leave." Her eyes widened, taking in what appeared to be a broad forest, cleaved in half by the road on which they traveled. But the cart was far from alone on the road.

"We had clearance. The supplies were checked, weren't they? And they found nothing. So why are you-" Katara heard a sick thud as a fist collided with skin, and Nari fell from the cart.

"And put your helmet back on, you insolent rebel," Zhao hissed coldly. And suddenly he raised his head. "Or...not? You!" he barked at the remaining soldier, Haitu. "Remove your helmet." Haitu obeyed, keeping his face carefully blank as he pulled the mask and helmet from his head. Katara's mind raced. Could she outrun the other soldiers? Not in a lifetime. The armor was too heavy on her. But that wouldn't stop her from trying.

"You too," Zhao barked, gesturing at Katara. Katara only blinked at him with unseen eyes. "I said take off your helmet, you arrogant little-" he reached for Katara's head, but she lunged suddenly forward, ramming into him with all of her weight, knocking him to the ground. As he fell, he grabbed her helmet, wrenching it from her head and pulling her to the ground with him. Katara rolled to the side, landing at the clawed feet of the rhino, which was pacing uneasily. She unsheathed her knife and scrambled to her feet, brandishing her weapon at nearly a dozen trained soldiers.

She was terrified.

_They can smell nervousness, Katara_.

"It's her! _Get her now_!" The rhino tossed its head, agitated by the shout. Katara slashed down, cutting away the harness that held the rhino to the cart. She raked her armored fingers across the creature's face, sending it dodging to the side in fury and confusion.

And then it started running. Just as she had expected, the rhino went on rampage, rushing and slashing at everything that moved. Especially the Fire Nation soldiers that stood before it. As they scattered, trying to evade the maddened beast's attack, she raced into the surrounding trees.

The armor protested angrily to her movements, catching rebelliously on the foliage, knocking violently against her battered body, the heavy boots slipping on the uneven ground. Her muscles ached, her skin burned; she couldn't keep the armor on anymore. It had served its purpose. From this point on, it would be useless. She collapsed into the crook of a large tree, hopefully hidden from unfriendly eyes, and tore at her armor, struggling to remove the heavy breastplate. She wrestled it over her head, instantly bathing her abdomen in cool wind.

A sudden kick to her unprotected stomach sent her into the trunk of the tree, gasping pathetically for breath.

She heard Zhao swear loudly as he delivered another kick.

"I should have had you killed from the start," he snarled. "Should have ordered you shot when I took down the Avatar!" He aimed a third kick at her head, but she grabbed the discarded breastplate, dulling the blow slightly. She scrambled to her feet, fumbling over the remainder of the armor as he delivered another blow.

"You have Aang?" she rasped, trying in vain to hold an interrogation while being beaten senseless.

"Of course not, because of you," Zhao spat more profanities at her, until he seemed satisfied, and a cruel, predatory grin spread across his face. He picked her up by the collar, holding her so her toes fell an inch above the ground. "But your little scheme didn't work, did it?" he hissed.

_What are you talking about?_

"You didn't save your precious little Avatar. Just because that arrogant whelp of a prince arrived before I did. And you won't be able to save him, either. Withholding the Avatar...I'll have him executed for that, mark my words. Just let your precious Avatar try and fly in here to rescue him. My archers know what to do. They'll shoot him out of the sky, just like they did before." He delivered a stunning blow to Katara's face, but at last, things seemed to click into place.

_Before?_ Her eyes widened in horror. _Before? When Aang got hurt, when his glider broke and he fell out of the sky...it didn't tear. He was shot. You shot him, Zhao. That's why you were looking for Aang on Zuko's ship. You knew he'd already been there. _

"You're a monster," she hissed.

"And you, you insolent child, are dead." Zhao threw Katara to the ground and plunged forward, flames shooting from his open palms. Katara tried to roll out of reach of the fires, but it was no use. She would be burned to a cinder. There was no escape.

She felt the terrible heat claw against her skin, singing her clothes and hair.

But the attack never fell.

A second fiery blast diverted Zhao's attack, shielding her from the worst of the blow. Katara rolled to her feet and glanced over her shoulder. Her heart leaped.

Zuko stood between her and Zhao, delivering blow after fiery blow, keeping the admiral at bay, as well as a dozen lesser soldiers as, one by one, they raced close enough to oppose him. She heard a sharp cry in the distance and two hollow thuds. Two Fire Nation soldiers had fallen to the ground, and standing above them were _Aang and Sokka._ Both offered her grim smiles before returning to the fray, striking down as many of their opponents as humanly possible. Katara took her cue from them and drew the second knife from her belt, fighting off the next soldier that rushed at her. She had just twisted his helmet to obscure his vision and sent him to the ground with her fallen breastplate, as she heard a scream of pure agony. Out of the corner of her eye, Katara saw Zhao, desperately fleeing from the fight, his entire left side engulfed in flames, and Zuko racing after him, his face contorted in fury. Another soldier rushed at her, but he was thrown aside by a furious blast of air and a ripple of earth.

"Are you okay, Katara?" Aang called, tossing her a full water skin.

"I am now," she said. "Thanks!" She unfastened the stopper, drawing the water out in a thin whip, lashing at another opponent. Sokka struck down another, while three more lunged at him from behind. Aang threw one to the ground with his staff, Sokka struck the second, and the third collapsed as Zuko's sword slashed across his throat.

Katara was amazed as the fight continued. Every opening that one of them might have had was covered instantly by another, and the four of them moved together with a determined strength and a liquid grace. The only one who seemed to suffer any injury was Zuko. He lunged at his opponents, distracting them as she and Sokka and Aang knocked them to the ground. The tactic was clever, and quickly decimated the soldiers, though Zuko was unable to evade all of the blows that struck him. He was now marred with dozens of wide cuts, his torn clothes stained with blood. The last of the soldiers hit the ground, and the three boys stood as still as wary animals. Katara stared at them for an instant, praying that this wasn't a dream, that it wasn't some sick joke. They were here. They had come for her.

"Aang! Sokka! Zuko!" she cried at once. "What are you doing here? Are you guys hurt? Are you crazy?" Sokka and Aang stood near each other, and Katara took advantage of their proximity, engulfing both in a fierce hug. "I missed you guys," she said softly.

Unseen behind her, Zuko flinched.

"This isn't the time," he said, his voice taking on a military tone as he composed himself. Katara pulled away from her brother and her best friend. "More of the soldiers are on the way. They'll be here any minute. And I don't think your bison can land here, not with so many trees. You need to find some kind of clearing. And hurry."

Sokka opened his mouth to argue, but finding no flaw in this judgment, he closed it again. Aang pointed into the distance, to a large patch of light some distance away, and he took off after it. Sokka and his sister started after him, but Katara stopped suddenly. A terrible chill raced down her back as she watched Zuko swing his swords once, walking slowly, purposefully, away from the clearing.

"Zuko, where are you going? What are you doing?" she asked. Zuko glanced at her over his shoulder, though he would not meet her eyes.

"Go," he said. "I'll hold them off."

"Zuko, no, you-"

"Go." he said again. And then, as softly as a prayer, "Forgive me someday, Katara..." his voice and expression once more hardened into steely resolve as Sokka stood behind his sister. "There's no more time. GO!" Sokka nodded grimly and rushed away, dragging his sister to the shelter of the clearing. Aang was waiting for them, blowing with all of his might into his bison whistle. Katara barely saw him.

* * *

_I want you to stay. I don't want you to ever leave me._

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had promised.

But there was no way.

There had never been any way.

And she didn't care. She waded defiantly back to the battlefield, but Aang took her arm, holding her back.

"Please," she begged. "Let me go. I can't just-"

"We need to stay here, Katara," Aang said quietly. The sky above them darkened as Appa hovered overhead, landing at last in the wide clearing.

* * *

_She can go back to the two of you and she'll never have to see me or hear me or think about me again._

Sokka returned to the place where Zuko stood, watching from a few dozen feet away as the other boy kept walking. In the distance he could hear the roar of an approaching army. The entire stronghold had most likely been emptied of soldiers. Zuko continued his walk, completely ignoring Sokka. It was infuriating.

_Or better yet, you can just kill me then. But let me bring her back first._

_I lived up to my part of the bargain,_ Sokka thought grimly, raising his club as he raced at Zuko. _Now you live up to yours.

* * *

_

Aang pulled Katara onto the bison's tail, but she went suddenly rigid, all the color draining from her face.

They heard no clang of metal. They heard no battle cries.

Only a sickening crunch, and a hollow thud as a body hit the ground.

* * *

The roar of the army became nearly unbearable as Sokka rushed into the clearing, awkwardly carrying an unmoving Zuko. 

"Sokka!"

"What happened?"

"Doesn't matter," Sokka shouted, heaving the lifeless body into Appa's saddle. "We've got about ten seconds to get out of here. Now let's go!"

Aang gave the command and Appa raced into the air, just barely evading the flares that followed him as the army closed in.

* * *

Zuko's head was rested on Katara's lap as his eyes began to open. She smiled gently down at him, taking his hand, reassuring him that she was still there. She had already hugged Sokka to the point of strangulation, thanking him eternally. And even now her brother watched, sitting on Appa's head with Aang, to give the couple more 'alone time'. 

"'Couple'...that'll take some getting used to," Aang said with a laugh.

"Yeah... I think we're going to have to keep an eye on Katara's new boyfriend," Sokka said, trying to keep his glances at the two of them discreet.

"You still don't trust him?"

"Not as far as I can throw him. But Katara seems to be crazy about the guy, so that's enough for me."

"So where to now?" Aang asked. Sokka shrugged.

"I figure we get this guy back to his ship."

"Or not," Aang said thoughtfully. Sokka raised an eyebrow.

"Why not?" he asked.

"He's probably going to get into a bit of trouble if he goes back right away. And he hasn't tried to kidnap me yet or anything... Maybe he's not as terrible as we thought." Sokka looked back, taking in his sister's happy expression, the content glow in her eyes.

"Maybe not," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe not."


	26. Author's Note

Author's Note:

There are rules against this. I am well aware, and I apologize. But I feel that this is a message that must reach you:

I love writing, I love writing about Avatar, and I love writing for all of you. To make that possible-- and more reliable-- I have created a blog, which will be updated twice a week. The content of the blogs is entirely up to you, my readers, and the material that I deem appropriate will be added to Ff . net in due time.

Please support me, support my family, and support my habits as a writer by visiting:

masakomoonshade . blogspot . com

Thank you for reading, and I invite you to continue on to the final installment of the Black Skies Saga: Worth Fighting For.

Your humble servant,

Masako Moonshade


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